


Another Day, A New Dawn

by MollyPollyKinz



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Characters Tagged As They Appear, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Genesis slowly indoctrinates the soldiers into enjoying fine arts, Give Zack a happy ending 2020, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Kunsel is Zack's roomate, Nightmares, Not Abandoned, On Hiatus, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, The fic in which Reno keeps meeting Zack at restaurants, Time Travel Fix-It, Touch-Starved, Underage Drinking, What his face looks like is completely up to the reader, Whumptober 2020, Zack Fair Needs a Hug, Zack decided he did not enjoy alcohol, Zack is horrible at social interactions, collapsed building, for like five seconds - Freeform, just so you know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 36,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26817694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MollyPollyKinz/pseuds/MollyPollyKinz
Summary: Zack Fair woke up in a flurry of pain.He was dead. Wasn’t he supposed to be dead? Where was Cloud? Where was he? Shouldn’t he be dead by now? Why did it feel like something was on top of him?Or: Zack wakes up and finds that he can fix everything.
Relationships: Angeal Hewley & Genesis Rhapsodos & Sephiroth, Zack Fair & Aerith Gainsborough, Zack Fair & Angeal Hewley, Zack Fair & Cloud Strife, Zack Fair & Genesis Rhapsodos, Zack Fair & Kunsel, Zack Fair & Sephiroth
Comments: 208
Kudos: 395
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 - Collapsed Building

Zack Fair woke up in a flurry of pain.

He was dead. Wasn’t he supposed to be dead? Where was Cloud? Where was _he?_ Shouldn’t he be dead by now? Why did it feel like something was _on top_ of him?

The heavy weight pressed down into Zack’s body, and a faint groan escaped him. The pain was blinding, but he did his best to push it aside as he tried to figure out what was going on.

There were soldiers. He told the man in the truck to pull out, and he got Cloud out of the car. The army was waiting for them. Zack was shot. Multiple times.

Zack tried to look down to see if there were any bullet holes in his shirt. All he saw was dirt right in front of his face. That’s when he realized he was lying on his stomach, not his back.

Ash burned his lungs. Zack coughed. Blood landed on the dirt. His ribs must be broken from all of those _bullet wounds_.

But no. Zack would be dead by now. The bullet wounds must have gone away. The hot rush of blood on his forehead was gone.

If Zack was no longer shot full of bullets, why was he coughing up blood? As a matter of fact, what was pressing down on him with a vengeance?

In answer, dust filled Zack’s airways, and he coughed up more blood. He glanced around, trying not to let the dust clog his senses too much.

Zack internally berated himself. A true soldier would have checked his surroundings immediately, not as a vague afterthought. After a year on the run, Zack should have known better.

Still, it was better late than never, so Zack squinted through the clouds of dust and smoke that stung his eyes. From the rubble surrounding him, something had clearly exploded or collapsed.

Concrete was crushing Zack to death.

Taking deep, smoke-filled breaths, Zack willed himself not to panic. He could get out of this. Then, he could get back to Cloud, and—

Crap. He forgot about Cloud. Where was he? Did Shinra have him? Was he back in the labs?

 _Don’t panic,_ Zack told himself forcefully. He could get out of this. He just had to figure out _how,_ and then he would rescue Cloud.

“Zack!” the voice echoed into Zack’s ears. Zack hardly let himself believe it.

“Angeal?” Zack’s voice nothing more than a soft rasp.

“Zack? Are you there?!” Angeal’s voice penetrated the fog and panic in Zack’s mind, and a strange calm came over him.

Angeal was dead. If Angeal was here, then Zack was definitely dead. Simple logic, really.

“Oh, thank the ancients,” Angeal said, his voice much closer than before. Zack saw a pair of heart-achingly familiar boots stand in front of him. “I’m going to get you out of there, alright?”

Zack nodded; he couldn’t think of anything else to do. Actually, a lump grew in his throat, and he hoped the tears in his eyes would be chalked up to the excessive smoke and dust in the air.

The concrete dug into his back suddenly, and Zack bit back a whimper of pain. And suddenly, the pressure was gone. Zack was free.

Zack breathed properly for what felt like the first time in years. Everything still hurt like heck, but at least he could breathe.

A pair of hands gently sat him up, and Angeal’s face swam in his vision. He looked concerned. And Zack could almost dispel the image of Angeal dying on the ground. There was so much Zack had wanted to say, but so little time to say it.

Now that they were both dead, Zack could get it all out while he had the chance.

“I’m sorry.” Zack’s voice slurred together.

“Don’t say anything right now,” Angeal said bracingly, “Give me a moment.”

Zack saw Angeal pull out a heal materia, and a rush of magic warmed Zack’s body. Most of the pain was gone, at least physically. That didn’t stop Zack from feeling the phantom bullet through his skull.

“I’m sorry,” Zack repeated, his voice clearer now.

“Sorry for what?” Angeal pulled Zack to his feet. “Giving me a heart attack?” Zack noticed the Buster Sword on his back. “That was inevitable.”

Zack furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Did Angeal not remember? What could that mean? 

_He wasn’t dead. All of this was just one horrible nightmare induced from being crushed underneath a building._

Zack knew it wasn’t true. Nightmares don’t last for years.

Still, as he allowed Angeal to lead him back to their helicopter, Zack allowed a glimmer of hope fill his chest. He could fix _everything_. Angeal wouldn’t have to die. Sephiroth wouldn’t have to go crazy. Cloud wouldn’t have to lose five years of his life.

He allowed himself to hope, just this once, that everything was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be continuing this, but here's a hopeful ending for now. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 - Failed Escape

Sephiroth was waiting for them on their helicopter. Zack’s fingers twitched, and he resisted the urge to reach for his sword.

Sephiroth wasn’t that person anymore. This Sephiroth hadn’t burned down Nibelheim. This Sephiroth hadn’t _stabbed_ Cloud. This was the Sephiroth who knew certain passages of _Loveless_ by heart because Genesis couldn’t stop quoting it. The Soldier standing in front of him was the Sephiroth who refused to fight his friends even when they were deserters.

Zack would make sure that this Sephiroth _never_ found himself in the Nibelheim mako reactor, and he would certainly not be finding the basement of that mansion.

In the present, Sephiroth’s mouth quirked up slightly upon seeing Zack relatively safe and sound. Zack returned a strained smile back.

“I see you’ve found your puppy,” Sephiroth told Angeal.

“Ha-ha,” Angeal said, “Thanks for sounding so concerned.”

Zack rolled his eyes, but his chest burned at the light banter. He hadn’t realized how much simpler life was when Angeal’s mother called him “the puppy.” Of course, at the time, Angeal and Genesis were both deserters, and Zack had been forced to go on a mission that Sephiroth had actively chosen to not participate in. So, Zack supposed it was the most complicated thing he had faced at the time.

If only things had stayed that way.

“I knew he would be unharmed,” Sephiroth said as the helicopter doors closed, silencing the violent wind, “You trained him, after all.”

“Speaking of you, Zack…” Angeal ruffled Zack’s hair a bit, and Zack pretended that it didn’t feel like a cup of hot chocolate on a winter’s day. “You need to sit down.”

Angeal was right. Although the Heal Materia had dealt with most of Zack’s injuries, there were some symptoms that remained. Namely, Zack probably had a mild concussion. Considering that he was being crushed by tons of concrete less than an hour ago, Zack got off easy. _Especially_ considering that mere hours ago, Zack had a bullet in his head.

Angeal pointed Zack to a seat in the helicopter, and Zack slowly lowered himself into it. The cushions felt good, but he wasn’t going to put that seatbelt on unless Angeal forced him to. Seatbelts were too restraining.

Fortunately, Angeal didn’t seem to notice Zack’s lack of safety procedures. Instead, he gave Zack a routine check-up for concussion symptoms. Zack would know. The sheer number of times he had gotten a concussion is astonishing. Then again, he met his girlfriend by falling through her roof.

And destroying her flowers. When Zack saw Aerith next (and that was definitely one of the first things on his list), he was going to buy her the best flowers money could buy.

Then again, she might appreciate something to help _her_ flowers, instead of receiving some stuffy store-bought ones.

“Alright,” Angeal said, startling Zack out of his reverie. Angeal patted Zack’s shoulder lightly. “You can go to sleep if you want. The concussion isn’t too bad.”

Zack nodded, already feeling his eyes droop. It’s been a long time since he could feel safe enough to sleep like this, especially in a _Shinra_ helicopter of all places…

Zack was facing the army, holding his sword. He was ready. He would fight them to the very end. And it _would_ probably be his end.

 _Aerith,_ Zack thought, _I’m sorry._

And Zack fought tooth and nail. He fought after being shot over, and over, and over again. He kept fighting.

But he lost. This time, the army didn’t shoot him in the head and leave him to die. Instead, they strapped him to a stretcher. The restraints bit into Zack’s arms, but he was in too much pain to struggle.

All he could do was breathe heavily. Hojo stood above him, his sick smile making Zack want to puke.

They had been _so close_. Zack could see Midgar from here.

“You couldn’t run forever,” Hojo said, “It’s so good to see my test subjects back.”

And suddenly Angeal was there. What was Angeal doing here? He should be dead. Zack was just about to tell him so too, but Angeal interrupted him.

“Zack, you need to wake up.”

Zack’s eyes snapped open, and he reached for his sword before he was fully aware of what he was doing.

Angeal and Sephiroth had already taken two large strides away from Zack. Angeal’s arms were raised in surrender. Sephirtoh was just staring at Zack.

Zack tried to steady his breaths, and he felt his shirt for bullet holes. Nothing was there. It was just a dream. Hojo didn’t have him. Hojo didn’t have Cloud.

Zack massaged his wrists, trying to dispel the phantom bite of restraints. He was glad the helicopter was cold; the desert had been boiling.

“Zack?” Angeal asked cautiously, lowering his arms.

“I’m fine.” Zack stood up from his chair. “I’m fine. Just a nightmare.” The silence was suffocating, so Zack searched for something else to say. “Are we almost back?”

“We should arrive at Midgar in half-an-hour,” Sephiroth told Zack.

Zack nodded. “Okay. Great.”

Angeal still looked concerned, and he squeezed Zack’s shoulder comfortingly. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Zack nodded, schooling his face into a careful mask. He wasn’t entirely sure how well it worked, as he was without a mirror. Hiding his emotions was something Zack never excelled at.

“I want you to see the medic first thing,” Angeal instructed. His hand hadn’t moved from Zack’s shoulder, and Zack savored the warmth.

On a less comforting note, going to a lab was the last thing Zack wanted to do, even if it was simply medical. He repressed a shudder.

“ _Angeal_ ,” he whined, honing his old childlike demeanor, “I’m fine. I don’t need to see the medic.”

Angeal gave Zack and unimpressed look. “Nice try, but we’re all going to see the medic when we’re back. We all sustained injuries and inhaled too much smoke than healthy.”

Sephiroth said nothing, but Zack noted that those mako-enhanced eyes looked more uncomfortable than usual. Maybe Sephiroth didn’t like labs either. Something to take note of.

If Zack wanted to stop Sephiroth from going insane, he should make a list of everything that might have caused him to go over last time around. Then, he would do his best to eliminate them.

It was a vague plan at best. Aerith was always better at making people feel better. Maybe Zack should introduce Aerith to everyone. Then again, did he really want his girlfriend near the man who destroyed an entire village?

Not _this_ Sephiroth. This Sephiroth was only a Soldier. And was Aerith even his girlfriend anymore? How far back in time did he go?

Wait. How old was he now anyway? When he died, he was twenty-three, but that didn’t really mean anything now.

Alright, he officially had an internal to-do list:

- _Go to the Medic_

_-Find out his age_

_-See Aerith_

_-Become friends with Cloud_

_-Save the world_

Admittedly, that last part was vague and dramatic, but Zack liked the sound of it.

Besides, it was less dramatic than anything _Genesis_ would have said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I have any inaccuracies, but I looked up the part about being able to sleep with a mild concussion. 
> 
> Thank you for everyone's support so far!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aerith looked up and jumped to her feet. “Um…hello?” she said, “Did you want to see the flowers? Please don’t step on them. I worked really hard to grow them!”
> 
> Aerith looked at Zack reprovingly, as if she suspected that he was a no-good flower destroyer. In another life, Zack had crushed the flowers with his body, so he could see where she would get that idea from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 - Get it Out

Step one was pretty easy. Okay, that was a lie. Step one was a nightmare.

One thing Zack could instantly appreciate was the white wash of the medical walls. The labs Hojo had Cloud and Zack in were a dirty brown, so there was nothing truly traumatizing about white walls and beds.

Still, it took all of Zack’s force of will to sit down on that hospital bed to be checked by a white-coated nurse. He dug his nails into his palms so deeply that they drew sticky blood. He wasn’t in the lab. This was just the medic. They weren’t going stick any needles in him, or study him like a specimen, or stick him in a tank full of Mako.

He was fine.

When he was finally cleared from medical, Zack dodged all of Angeal’s inquiries about his wellbeing and checked his PHS for the date. It hadn’t occurred to Zack that he could check the date on his PHS until then. Maybe the concussion had addled his brain more than Zack previously thought, or maybe he was just distracted.

It was eight years before Zack died. Three years before the Nibelheim incident. One year before Genesis deserted.

He had one year to reach out to Genesis before he deserted. Cloud probably wasn’t joining soldier until he was fourteen, which was also still a year from now.

Zack was fifteen. He wasn’t twenty-three. He was going to have to suffer listening to his own squeaky voice for a little while yet. _Yay._

Nevertheless, Zack completed step two. Now on for step three. _See Aerith._

Zack reached the church in the slums easily. Zack made the journey many times before _everything_ happened. It was kind of…refreshing…to be underneath the steel sky again. Zack wasn’t afraid of the sky like Aerith, not by a long shot. As a matter of fact, to Zack, the sky was a symbol of freedom.

Still, there was something comforting about the blanket of steel overshadowing the vast expanse of blue. Maybe it reminded Zack of old times. That was the likeliest answer, to be honest. Zack had dreamed about finally reaching Aerith while on the run. The thought of her and her letters were part of what kept him going for so long.

And Cloud. None of this was Cloud’s fault. Cloud had no idea that Sephiroth’s friends had abandoned him. Cloud didn’t know that Genesis had called Sephiroth a monster. Zack knew. Zack knew, and he did nothing but let Sephiroth read in a basement. He would be _damned_ if Zack had left Cloud behind to be returned to Hojo’s vile hands.

It wasn’t until Zack reached the entrance of the church that he realized something.

What was he going to say? What was he going to tell Aerith? What would Aerith think, seeing a stranger come up to her like this? Would Aerith reject him for being a soldier? Sure, she hadn’t before, but what if he didn’t prove himself to be nice enough like last time? What if he came off as creepy?

Crushing anxiety seized at Zack’s chest, but he couldn’t leave. The idea of leaving the one sanctuary he had and hoped for all these years was too much for Zack to bear. He couldn’t do this alone, and he knew that the only person that he wanted to stand by his side was Aerith.

But, then again, did Zack really want to burden Aerith with his problems? Did he really want to do that to her? She had other things going on in her life, after all. Being an Ancient couldn’t be easy. Hojo would probably kill to get his hands on the last living Ancient.

Zack shuddered, and he considered turning around right then and there. The Turks were already watching her, though. No matter what Zack chose to do, Shinra had eyes on Aerith at all times. Maybe it would be better if Zack were there to give her some support in case the worst happened?

Zack honestly couldn’t tell if he were being selfish or not, but he _did_ know that he felt stupid standing in front of this church for so long.

So, taking a deep breath, Zack opened the church doors. The familiar scent of flowers made his chest tighten for a completely different reason than anxiety and guilt.

Aerith was leaning close to the flowers, _“whispering secrets”_ she would always say whenever he asked. Sometimes, upon Aerith’s prompting, Zack would whisper secrets to the flowers too. He would tell the flowers about his worries over Angeal, and Sephiroth, and everything going on in Shinra. Even though Zack knew the flowers couldn’t actually hear them, there was something alleviating about laying all his worries bare to the innocent plants.

That was a different time. Now, Zack had to figure out how he was going to go about this. His steps echoed in the nearly empty church as he approached.

Aerith looked up and jumped to her feet. “Um…hello?” she said, “Did you want to see the flowers? Please don’t step on them. I worked really hard to grow them!”

Aerith looked at Zack reprovingly, as if she suspected that he was a no-good flower destroyer. In another life, Zack _had_ crushed the flowers with his body, so he could see where she would get that idea from.

Zack’s mouth was suddenly very dry as he looked into Aerith’s bright green eyes. She was younger than before—Aerith would be fourteen right now—but she was still beautiful. Zack wanted nothing more than to hug her and never let go.

However, Zack knew that would be very inappropriate. So, instead, Zack inhaled deeply, trying to draw strength from the aroma of the flowers.

“I’m your boyfriend from the future, and I need your help to change things so that my friends’ lives aren’t ruined forever.”

Aerith gaped. Zack…had not meant to say any of that. He didn’t know what he wanted to say, but Zack knew it didn’t involve confessing his entire situation.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Zack combed his hair back with his fingers and let out a shuddering breath. Aerith still hadn’t said anything; she was instead staring at Zack with a thoughtful expression. He wanted to take this as a good sign, but what sort of teenage girl would believe what Zack just told her? He had _ruined_ any chances of getting Aerith on his side. He should just leave before he screws things up more.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.” Zack turned around, determined to leave before he made things weirder.

“Wait!” Aerith grabbed his arm. Zack flinched, but he didn’t pull away from Aerith’s soft touch.

“Yeah?” Zack tried not to allow his voice from sounding too hopeful, but he knew it was a lost cause.

“I believe you.” Aerith was smiling faintly. “You feel…touched…by the lifestream. I can’t explain it, but nobody else feels that way. So…I believe you.”

Right. Ancient stuff.

“Really?” Zack hated how childlike he sounded, but he had to make sure he didn’t simply imagine Aerith saying she believed him.

Aerith’s smile grew slightly wider and nodded. “Yep! Besides, it gets kind of lonely with just me and the flowers, so I’d probably let you stay anyway.”

Aerith wasn’t lying. She _does_ believe him. And even if she has a small doubt, she’s going to ignore it in favor of having company.

Zack didn’t deserve this girl.

He wasn’t sure when he started crying, but the next thing he knew, Aerith was wrapping him up in her arms. It felt _so good_ and _so warm_ compared to what he was used to that Zack started sobbing. He had _died._ He was a lab rat for four years, a fugitive for one year, and a dead man at the end of it all.

“That’s okay,” Aerith said kindly. She began to card through his hair, reminding Zack once again that this girl was too good for this world. “Get it all out.”

So, Zack told Aerith everything between sobs. And a few hours later, as they sat by the flowers, Aerith nodded slowly.

“I can’t meet them in the Shinra building,” she said softly. Her voice echoed slightly in the now silent church.

“I know,” Zack said quickly, “But maybe if we found a meeting place somewhere in the slums? You would be a fantastic influence.” He paused, feeling another wave of guilt rush over him. “But only if you want to. I don’t want you to feel obligated to do this.”

Aerith smiled. “I do want to. You’re nice. I don’t want you to go through all that again.”

Zack felt the beginnings of a smile work its way onto his own face. “You’re…so amazing. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Aerith nodded, gently stroking one of her flowers. “Do you think I should try selling the flowers again also?”

Zack nodded. “If you want to? Definitely.”

With a note of satisfaction, Zack realized that his _to-do_ list finally had some boxes checked off of it. And, unfortunately, some new things added to it.

His new _Save the World To-do List_ was as follows:

- _Go to the Medic_ (Check).

 _-Find out his age_ (Check)

 _-See Aerith_ (Check)

 _-Become friends with Cloud_ (This one would have to wait for a little while.)

_-Become acquainted with Genesis._

_-Convince Genesis, Sephiroth, and Angeal to meet Aerith and Zack in the slums in order to talk out their feelings._

_-Save the world_

And maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Zack gets some emotional support! Now if we can get everyone else (including Aerith) emotional support, we'll be on our way.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Reno wanted was a hard drink. Something to unwind from the day, ya know? Being a Turk wasn’t exactly what one would call an easy occupation after all.
> 
> But even he was going to raise eyebrows at the kid sitting down at the bar next to him. And while he looked like he needed the drink more than Reno did, the fact remained that there was still technically a drinking age in Midgar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 alternate prompt - comfort (To be honest, this chapter doesn't fit any of the prompts super well).

All Reno wanted was a hard drink. Something to unwind from the day, ya know? Being a Turk wasn’t exactly what one would call an easy occupation after all.

But even he was going to raise eyebrows at the kid sitting down at the bar next to him. And while he looked like he needed the drink more than Reno did, the fact remained that there was still technically a drinking age in Midgar.

“Kid, how old are you anyway?” he asked over the din. The apathetic bar owner gave the kid a shot of vodka.

“If you’re old enough to fight in active combat,” the kid said in a deadpan voice, “You’re old enough to drink.”

Reno watched, fascinated, as the kid downed the shot before making made a disgusted face. Reno barked out a laugh.

“That…was not what I was expecting.” The kid gave the shot-glass a look of betrayal and placed it back onto the counter with a barely perceivable clink.

“Never had alcohol before in your life, have you?” he asked.

The kid flushed and scowled. “It’s not like I’ve had that much time to!” he protested.

“Yeah, maybe you should’ve started with something a little lighter.” Reno studied his own glass, gripping the cold, smooth surface. “Maybe a glass of champagne at a dinner party instead of walking in here like a war-hardened veteran, ya know?”

“Bold of you to assume I’m not a war-hardened veteran.” The kid stared at him challengingly, but before Reno could reply, the kid was turning back to the bartender. “I’ll have a water and turkey club,” he muttered.

Reno smirked victoriously. “Kid, you might be a Soldier, but you look like you’re thirteen. You haven’t had time to become a war-hardened veteran.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m twen—no wait—fifteen.” The kid pointed a finger at Reno. “And I’m certain I’ve been through more traumatizing things than _you.”_

Reno snorted. “Try me.”

The kid sighed. “Okay, that was overdramatic, but that’s not the point.” He took a sip of his water. “How old are _you,_ anyway?”

Reno smirked. “Twenty.”

The kid began coughing violently. “Sorry,” he wheezed, “I choked on my water.” Reno waited for the kid to collect himself, albeit slightly impatiently. “I’m sorry,” the kid said, taking a deep breath, “You’re _twenty?”_

Reno raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? So?”

“Nothing.” There was silence between the two of them for a moment, other conversations serving as background noise. “I’m Zack, by the way.”

“Reno.” They shook hands. Zack had a fairly tight grip. “Why _are_ you here looking like a war-torn veteran anyway?”

Zack grimaced. “The short version? I was crushed by a building earlier today.” Zack didn’t elaborate, and Reno didn’t exactly need him to.

Instead, Reno let out a low whistle, feeling bad for teasing Zack earlier. “That’s rough. Sorry, man.”

Zack shrugged and took a bite out of his sandwich. “It wasn’t a huge deal.” He closed his eyes suddenly. “Oh, this is _so good.”_

Reno raised his eyebrows, not bothering to mask his surprise. “Really?” He could taste the somewhat charred remains of his own sandwich, and it wasn’t exactly five-star material.

“I haven’t had anything decent to eat in _years,”_ Zack said, taking another large bite, “This is so much better than stolen gas-station food or dumb apples.”

“Why were you eating stolen gas station food?” Reno asked, prying in a way that Rude would disapprove of.

“I walked all the way to Midgar,” Zack replied without missing a beat, “Didn’t exactly have the resources to sustain myself.”

“And you’ve been stuck on that cafeteria mush ever since.” Reno shuddered, remembering it from his own days as a cadet. “You should be a Turk like me; free yourself from all that gross food.”

Zack shook his head violently, looking like he swallowed a lemon. “No, thank you. You guys have a little more…” Zack gestured vaguely into the air. “…than I’m comfortable with.”

“Somehow, that makes complete sense,” Reno agreed. Then, he smirked. “Not everyone has what it takes.”

“In another life, I might have argued with you.” Zack rested his forehead down on the cold countertop. “Now, I can’t agree more.”

“Yeesh, kid,” Reno said uncomfortably, “You’re making me feel kinda down in the dumps. Lighten up, why don’t ya?”

Zack straightened up, taking another sip of his water. “Well, my friend traded some of her flowers to get some band-aids for me.”

He smiled slightly and reached into his pocket. Zack pulled out a cardboard box with a colorful band-aid depicted on the front. Reno took it from him and gave it a small shake. A satisfying weight thudded inside.

“Nice,” Reno said, handing the box back to Zack, “So, did you ask her for them or something?”

Zack shook his head. “If I had my way, she’d keep all of her money for something else. But she _insisted.”_ He lifted his palms up to show Reno four crescent-moon scabs on each. “I seem to have lost my gloves and accidently cut my hands earlier today, so she insisted that I keep bandages on me just in case it happens again.”

Reno frowned in spite of himself. “It looks like you dug your fingernails into your palm. Do you have bad stress problems or something?”

“Or something,” Zack muttered. He shook his head before continuing. “Anyway, I returned the favor and bought her a basket for her flowers, so it was alright in the end.”

“Man, relationship goals,” Reno groaned, “I don’t even have a girl, let alone give her gifts.”

Zack sputtered. “It’s not like that! We’re just—”

Reno rolled his eyes and made air quotes. “Just friends. I know, I know. Seriously, you should see your face when you talk about her. You look happier than you’ve looked all evening. Well, maybe with the exception of that sandwich.”

“It was really good, okay?” Zack let out a groan. “Besides, I don’t know if I want to pursue a relationship. I like her, don’t get me wrong, and I’d be over the moon if she asked…”

“But…?” Reno prompted, digging too deep as always.

“I don’t know. It’s complicated. And it’s _actually_ complicated, not that wishy-washy complicated you see on tv. I just…I don’t want her to feel obligated to like me, or anything like that.”

Reno nodded. That was fair. “You worry too much,” he said instead, “I bet you’re a hit with the ladies.”

Zack shrugged half-heartedly, looking somewhat lost in thought. Reno left him to it, especially upon seeing Rude walking up to him.

Rude towered over him. “What are you doing here?”

Before Reno could give his usual reply, Zack turned around quickly and punched Rude in the face. Rude’s sunglasses snapped in half, clattering to the floor.

Zack looked horrified with himself, staring at both Rude and the sunglasses with equal shock. He lowered his fist, breathing heavily, and messaged his forehead.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, “You startled me.”

Rude simply pulled out another pair of sunglasses and put them on. “In the future, I would be more aware of your surroundings.”

Zack sighed. “Right. I should probably be going anyway.” He stared walking toward the exit.

“I’ll see you around, right?!” Reno called after him.

“Sure!” Zack replied, not even bothering to turn his head.

Rude turned to Reno, who assumed he was receiving a disapproving look from him. It was kind of hard to tell with the sunglasses, but he was radiating that kind of _energy._

“Making friends?”

Reno shrugged. “What can I say? People like me. Besides, the kid was interesting.”

Rude scoffed. Reno ignored him.

Step five, as luck would have it, strutted up to Zack on his way back from dinner. The Shinra building was in view when Genesis approached him.

“Ah, the puppy,” Genesis said with a small smirk, “Angeal is worried about you.”

“The doctor told me I could take the rest of the day for myself, so I was taking it,” Zack said brusquely.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, touching the smooth band-aid box for comfort. It wasn’t that he hated Genesis or anything, but the man did come with some unpleasant memories.

“Angeal shouldn’t worry about me so much.” _Your life is more important than this sword. Well, just a little._

“‘There is no hate, only joy. For you are beloved by the goddess,’” Genesis quoted, “ _Loveless,_ Act II.”

Zack eyed him warily. “Did you just use a quote from the _Loveless_ to tell me that Angeal cares about me?”

Genesis smiled. “So, you know it?”

“Had it forced upon me more like,” Zack muttered under his breath. Genesis quirked his eyebrow up slightly.

“You really are like Angeal,” he said, as if this were some sort of fascinating discovery, “I do hope he doesn’t complain about me behind my back.”

Zack shook his head. _He never mentioned you until you deserted the army._ “No.”

The glass doors opening with a satisfying swish, they walked into the Shinra building, Air-conditioned heat washed over Zack, which was a nice change from Midgar’s frisky nights.

Genesis hummed slightly, glancing Zack over. “You know, for an excitable puppy, you are more stoic than I was expecting.” He sounded a little put out by Zack’s more serious demeanor.

“Well, with age comes maturity,” Zack said, “Besides, it’s the end of the day. I’m too tired to be doing squats every five seconds.”

“I suppose that’s fair enough,” Genesis shrugged. The elevator doors opened and they both stepped inside.

_“Going up. Doors closing.”_

Zack leaned against the smooth elevator wall, trying to decide how he should go about this. “Do you read anything other than the _Loveless?_ Out of curiosity.”

Genesis nodded. “I do, but none of them quite hold the magnificence that the _Loveless_ holds.”

“Huh,” Zack said, “When you put it that way, maybe I should read it.”

Zack wasn’t usually one for reading, but he was trying to connect with Genesis. Reading was hardly a sacrifice compared to watching everyone you know be ruined before dying painfully. Besides, he had started reading _Loveless,_ and while he had never finished it, it wasn't the most boring book in the world. 

“There’s a performance happening a week from now,” Genesis offered, “I could secure you some tickets.”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course.” Genesis crossed his arms. “Besides, it will give me a valid excuse to drag Angeal and Sephiroth along.”

Zack laughed in spite of himself. “I guess I’ll have to go then. You don’t reckon I could bring a friend along?”

“‘My friend, your desire is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess.’ _Loveless_ , Act III.”

Zack hesitated. “So…was that a yes?”

“Of course,” Genesis said, rolling his eyes slightly. “Now, this is your stop, no?”

Zack glanced to the side. He hadn’t realized that the elevator stopped moving, but sure enough, the doors were open on his floor.

“I guess it is,” he said, “See you later, I guess.”

“Next time, you would do well to answer Angeal’s messages.” Zack turned around, but the elevator doors were already closing.

He fished his PHS out of his pocket, feeling past Aerith’s band-aids, and flipped it open. Sure enough, there were three missed messages from Angeal.

_Oh, he was never going to hear the end of this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Listen,_ I know Zack is the point of view character, but then Reno popped into my head and insisted that he be able to give his own two cents on what was going on. So here we are. 
> 
> (And then I realized that I hadn't fulfilled the whumptober prompt so I decided to have Zack meet Genesis, and I still failed to meet the prompt, so...)
> 
> When life gives you characters running away from whumptober prompts, make lemonade or quote the _Loveless_ or something like that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zack had _died_. What if he hadn’t returned? Would that have been it? Would Zack have disappeared from this world forever, just like that? Sure, there was the lifestream, but that didn’t change the fact that Zack was leaving so many people behind. His parents, for instance—
> 
> _He forgot about his parents._
> 
> With a loud creak, Zack pulled back a drawer of the small desk next to his bed, pulling out a few sheets of paper. They crinkled in his shaking hands. How could he forget about his parents? He died and hadn’t spared them a single thought when he went back in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 8 - Isolation/"Don't say goodbye" (in case you haven't noticed already, these prompts are becoming more like very loose guide-lines).

Zack waited until he was safely in his bedroom before cautiously scrolling for Angeal’s contact information. Taking a deep breath, he clicked call and listened to the phone’s ringing with growing trepidation.

“Zack?”

“Heeey, Angeal,” Zack said, sitting down on his softer-than-he-remembered bed, “Just saw your messages, so uh…sorry about that.”

Zack could practically feel Angeal’s disapproving stare from the other end of the phone. “Three messages, Zack. Three. And you couldn’t be bothered to answer a single one?”

“I just said I only just now saw them, didn’t I?” Zack said irritably. He took a deep breath. It wasn’t fair for Zack to be upset because Angeal was worried.

“Did you have your PHS on you all day?” Angeal asked severely.

Zack nodded before realizing that Angeal couldn’t see him. “Yeah. Give me a minute.” Putting Angeal on speaker, Zack began looking at his current settings. “Oh, I see what the problem is. I left it on silent and no-vibrate mode.”

“When did you do that?” Angeal asked, his voice sounded unimpressed.

“Um, I don’t know,” Zack said honestly.

He had no memory of the events leading up to him being crushed by a building. Frankly, the only thing Zack remembered about that building from his old life was actually being able to dodge it in the nick of time. It was possible he silenced it sometime before the mission, but that meant that Zack had been really careless. Soldiers should have their PHS accessible at all times.

Angeal’s silence implied that he was having that same train of thought.

“Maybe the rubble from earlier today pressed a button?” Zack offered weakly. It was a long shot, but not _completely_ impossible. “Come to think of it, how is my PHS so unscathed?”

“Military grade,” Angeal said dryly, “You really think Shinra wouldn’t give their Soldiers the sturdiest phones they could get their hands on?”

“Oh.” Zack lightly rapped the hard surface of his PHS with his fingernail. “That makes sense.”

“Speaking of rubble, you _did_ give maintenance your damaged uniform for repairs, right?”

Zack glanced down at his clothing, fingering the rough—and bloodstained—cloth. “Uh…”

“Do that first thing when you get off the phone with me,” Angeal instructed. There was a sigh from the other end. “Listen, that’s not what I really wanted to talk to you about.”

“I figured.” Zack leaned his head back, staring at the cold metal ceiling of his room.

“I’m just…worried about you,” Angeal began, sounding cautious, “You seemed really on edge after I pulled you out of the rubble. Not that it isn’t understandable.” A pause. “We all go through something like that after a particularly tough battle. I know I have. I just…I don’t want you to feel like you have to go through it alone. I mean, it was my fault that you—”

“Angeal.” A lump was pushing up Zack’s throat, desperate to break free, but Zack swallowed it down with equal desperation. “That wasn’t your fault. I should have—”

“It wasn’t your fault either.” Angeal’s voice was severe, and Zack knew that nothing more should be said on the matter.

There was a silence, and Zack fiddled with the thin sheets underneath him. “Thanks, Angeal,” Zack said eventually, careful to not let that lump in his throat betray his emotions, “but I think I need some time to myself.”

“Okay,” Angeal said quietly, and Zack couldn’t shake a crushing feeling that he had disappointed him somehow.

But what else was he supposed to say? He couldn’t exactly say, _“Hey, in another life I killed you, and I’m dead too, so now I’m traumatized.”_ Like _that_ would blow over well.

“Okay,” Angeal said again, “I’ll still be seeing you at training tomorrow morning, right?”

Zack nodded again. It was a bad habit of his. “You bet!” He tried to inject as much of his old cheer into the declaration as possible. “I’m going to take you down this time!”

Angeal chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” 

“Bye Zack.”

Zack’s eyes burned, and he blinked rapidly. He was too afraid to say goodbye; too afraid this might be the last time he saw Angeal before they were enemies on the battlefield again. He gripped the cold sheets tightly. “See you in the morning.”

With a small beep, the call ended.

Zack pulled on a spare uniform and took his old one to maintenance. It was weird to hold the close-knitted fabric and see blue instead of black. Though, Zack probably wasn’t going to get promoted to first class anytime soon, so he might as well get used to it.

Upon returning to his room, he flopped onto his bed, wondering vaguely if his limp-noddle arms were even going to be able to pick up a sword tomorrow morning.

Zack woke up with phantom bullets through his torso and the feeling of thick blood running down his forehead. Gasping, he stumbled out of bed, trying to calm the racing thoughts.

He was fine. He wasn’t dead. Everything was _fine._

But still, he had _died._ What if he hadn’t returned? Would that have been it? Would Zack have disappeared from this world forever, just like that? Sure, there was the lifestream, but that didn’t change the fact that Zack was leaving so many people behind. His parents, for instance—

_He forgot about his parents._

With a loud creak, Zack yanked opened a drawer of the small desk next to his bed, pulling out a few sheets of paper. They crinkled in his shaking hands. How could he forget about his parents? He died and hadn’t spared them a _single_ thought when he went back in time.

Zack crouched down on the ground, fishing for a pen underneath his bed. When he finally found one, he slammed himself into the hard desk chair, jarring his tailbone. Zack couldn’t bring himself to care. He needed to make this right _immediately_.

After flipping on the warm light of his desk lamp, he began to write with trembling fingers:

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_~~I hope you are~~ ~~How are you?~~_

Zack stared at his shaky handwriting. Then he stared at the empty page underneath those four words and two attempts at sentences. What was he even supposed to write? Sure, he told Aerith his secret, but that was a spur of the moment sort of thing. He didn’t exactly want to start handing out pamphlets explaining his situation.

The empty piece of paper haunted Zack for a long time, mocking him as he listened to his own pained breathing. The night was getting deeper, if Zack had to guess, it was probably around midnight around now.

The sound of footsteps and the door opening had Zack jumping to his feet and getting into a defensive position.

“Zack? Buddy, are you alright?”

Zack relaxed immediately, messaging his forehead where the phantom blood once was. “Hey, Kunsel. Sorry about that. Got a little lost in thought, I guess.”

Zack sat back down. He was grateful that he hadn’t reached for his sword and accidentally skewered his roommate. Come to think of it, he had gotten dangerously close to doing that to Rude earlier that evening.

Zack was suddenly very glad that in the past twenty-four hours, the worst of his reflexes only involved breaking a pair of glasses.

“What are you working on?” Kunsel asked, taking his helmet off and revealing a dreadful case of helmet hair.

Zack sighed, rubbing his own soft hair violently. “I’m trying to write a letter to my parents.”

“What’s the hold up? You usually write letters so fast that I can practically see sparks flying between the pen and paper.”

Zack snorted at the imagery. “Yeah, well today, it’s just not working out. I just don’t know how to put what I want to say into words, know what I mean?”

Kunsel nodded and sat down on his own bed. “Yeah. Once, I wrote this letter to an old friend of mine, and I had _no idea_ what to write.”

Zack nodded quickly, glad to have someone who understood his problem. “I know right? How did you do it?”

Kunsel hesitated. “Honestly, I just wrote down exactly what I thought. It wasn’t the prettiest letter in the world, but it got the point across. That’s all that matters in the end, isn’t it?”

Zack nodded, letting the advice sink in. “Yeah, I guess you're right.” He turned back toward his barely-started letter and gripped his pen’s smooth surface tightly with newfound determination. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Kunsel let out a yawn. “If you no longer need me, I’m going to bed.”

“Yeah, knock yourself out,” Zack muttered. Kunsel’s telltale snoring filled the room barely moments later.

With a deep breath, Zack began writing again on a blank sheet of paper.

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_Sorry if this letter’s been a long time coming, I’ve got a lot on my mind recently. Not that I’m saying I’m too busy for you! That would be really unfair since you both managed to have a job and support me at the same time._

_I’ve recently had a ~~traumatizing~~ ~~near-death~~ eye-opening experience, and it made me think about some stuff. I’m not really sure how to put this, so I guess I’ll just put it bluntly. You guys are amazing. You’ve always supported me, and loved me, and I don’t know what I would have done without you._

_In case anything happens, I want you to know that I love you so much. Don’t forget it!_

_-Zack_

Zack folded up his letter. It wasn’t very long or fancy, but Kunsel was right. It got the point across, and that’s all that really mattered.

Still, there was one more letter Zack wanted to write before he went to sleep. If he was lucky, it might even check off one of his boxes on his _Save-the-World_ list.

Cloud was walking back home, blocking the hot summer sun with his hand, when a man accosted him.

“Are you Cloud Strife?” he asked gruffly.

Cloud felt familiar anger and resentment surge through him. Were the other kids seriously telling stories about him to strangers?

“Yeah, what about it?” he asked challengingly, ready to fight if need be.

The man didn’t blink. “I have a letter for you.” He shoved a small crumpled-up envelope into Cloud’s hands.

The envelope rustled as Cloud un-crumpled it. Who could possibly be writing to him? Especially from—he felt blood rush to his head when he saw the address in the top left corner—Shinra tower?!

“Who could possibly be writing to _you?”_

Cloud jumped at the voice, and he turned around to see one of Tifa’s friends staring at him with ill-disguised revulsion.

“I don’t know,” he snapped, “Why do you care?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “I wonder. Maybe it’s because you’re a dangerous loud-mouth with anger issues.”

Cloud balled his hands into fists, re-crumpling the envelope. His mom didn’t want him to get into any more fights, but this girl was just _asking_ for it.

“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about,” she sneered, “Have fun with your little pen-pal.”

She walked away right before Cloud could jump on her. It was probably for the best. Cloud wasn’t sure if he could stand his mother’s look of disappointment if he returned home dirty and bruised again.

Still, he was practically shaking with rage when he slammed the door to his home open loudly. His mother glanced up from her book.

“How was your day, dear?” she asked.

“Fine,” Cloud ground out with gritted teeth. He sat down on his bed as forcefully as he could, the mattress springs only whining slightly louder than usual in return.

Letting out a sigh, Cloud's temper yielded to his overwhelming curiosity. He opened the envelope and read:

_Dear Cloud,_

_Oh boy, this is going to seem so creepy. Ummm, I’m not really sure why I’m writing this. Actually, that’s not true. I do know why; I’m just not sure why I’m not being patient and waiting a year._

_You know what, I’m just going to apologize to you ahead of time. Sorry for how weird this is going to seem._

_Anyway, my name is Zack, and I’m a SOLDIER 2 nd class. I guess I want you as a pen-pal? If you’re okay with the fact that I’m obviously keeping secrets about how I know about you, I wouldn’t mind keeping correspondence._

_Anyway, I’m going to just go to sleep now, so see you later, I guess._

_-Zack_

Cloud stared blankly at the letter, and voiced the only thought running through his head:

"What?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zack, honey, maybe you shouldn't send your letters when you're sleep deprived.
> 
> Also, just because I'm bringing Cloud in, _doesn't_ mean he's going to be the main focus. He's only going to show up occasionally to play a minor role in these early chapters.
> 
> Next chapter, you'll be seeing Sephiroth, so there's something to look forward to.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's given me kudos and/or comments so far! They've been really encouraging. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zack grabbed his own sword off of his back and clenched the hard leather hilt. The small weapon was so light compared to the Buster sword. He hoped it wouldn’t fly out of his hands mid-sword stroke. Zack didn’t want Angeal to think he was incompetent on top of being an idiot.
> 
> He had to win this.
> 
> “Let's go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 9 - Run

Kunsel’s tried-and-true alarm pierced Zack’s ears repetitively the next morning.

Zack flopped out of bed, pleased to realize he had managed to sleep through the rest of the night. He supposed there was nothing like writing a heart-felt letter to your parents to cause your brain to shut down and…

Wait a minute. Zack wrote two letters last night. One to his parents and one to… _Oh crap._

Zack knew he was an idiot, but sometimes he forgot how much of an idiot he could be. It was one thing for Aerith to use her Ancient magic to know that Zack wasn’t lying. It was another thing entirely to send Cloud a cryptic letter that made it look like he was some sort of stalker.

Cloud was never going to want anything to do with him, and it was all his _stupid, sleep-deprived_ brain’s fault.

It was at times like these that Zack wished he could turn back time at will. Maybe then he could stop himself from thinking it would be productive to take the letters to the delivery office right before he went back to sleep.

“Are you okay, man?” Kunsel asked, “Did your letter go wrong?”

Zack nodded and then shook his head. “No, the letter went fine,” he said, staring at the empty desk morosely, “I just…did something kind of stupid.”

Kunsel grabbed his helmet off of his own desk. “What kind of stupid thing? Come on, I won’t laugh.”

Zack knew that. Kunsel would probably do something much worse. “It’s nothing,” Zack said, “Don’t worry about it.”

Kunsel narrowed his eyes at Zack before letting out a sigh. “Okay, if you say so.” He put on his helmet, flattening his hair with a quiet thud. “But don’t be afraid to talk to me if anything’s bothering you, alright?”

_Let me help you if you’re in a jam. Talk to me, I’ll be waiting._

_I’ll always be waiting for you to come back. Just make it back alive, buddy. Promise me._

He hadn’t replied back to any of those emails. Not one of them. At first, he’d just figured that he’d tell Kunsel when he got back. Then, when he was on the run…Zack didn’t know what his excuse was. He could say that he was afraid of being traced or that he was too busy to get back to Kunsel, but It wasn’t really true.

Well, it was true that he had been preoccupied, but it would have taken five minutes to respond to the emails from Kunsel, especially the ones begging to know if he was still alive.

He hadn’t even managed to do that one thing. Zack couldn’t even _stay alive_ long enough in order to see Kunsel again. And even if he had? Zack was heading straight toward Aerith. Would he have even bothered to try to contact Kunsel? Or would he have been too afraid to approach the tower?

Either way, Zack didn’t deserve Kunsel. Zack didn’t deserve that sincere expression and offers to help. Kunsel didn’t deserve to be burdened with Zack’s problems, especially after Zack had blown him off _over_ and _over again._

“Zack?”

Zack focused on the present and found Kunsel frowning at him.

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?”

Zack swallowed and nodded. Zack didn’t deserve Kunsel, and Kunsel didn’t deserve to be burdened with Zack’s problems.

“Yeah,” he said, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

After grabbing a small bite to eat, Zack found Angeal waiting for Zack outside of the training room. He was leaning against the wall, wearing a frown on his face and staring at nothing in particular.

Before Zack could puzzle out what that could possibly mean, Angeal spotted Zack and gave him a warm smile.

“Hey,” he said, “You ready?”

Zack nodded, mustering up his best grin. “You bet!”

Angeal surveyed Zack before nodding. The training doors hissed open and the two of them walked inside. Their footsteps echoed in the square room, and Zack remembered when he used to _willingly_ help Hojo collect data in there. Were the scientists watching him right now?

Zack held back a shudder and instead started some basic stretches, enjoying the satisfying pull on his muscles.

“All set?” Angeal asked, pulling out his small sword. The Buster sword stayed on his back, ever stoically representing honor. Zack prayed that, with his help, Angeal would never see reason to use it.

Zack grabbed his own sword off of his back and clenched the hard leather hilt. The small weapon was so light compared to the Buster sword. He hoped it wouldn’t fly out of his hands mid-sword stroke. Zack didn’t want Angeal to think he was incompetent on top of being an idiot.

_He had to win this._

“Let's go.”

They nodded to each other once. Then, Zack dashed toward Angeal. Leaping into the air, he aimed a strike to Angeal’s head.

Angeal raised his sword—the two weapons meeting with a deafening clash—and pushed Zack back into the air. His feet skidded against the smooth floor as he landed.

Angeal advanced and aimed his own strike. Zack shuffled and blocked the blow. Rolling to the side, Zack aimed a lunge for Angeal’s leg.

Angeal dodged out of the way. Zack bit his tongue in a mix of frustration and focus. He tasted blood.

Despite Zack’s previous concerns, it wasn’t too difficult to fight with his old sword. It felt a little awkward in his hands, but Zack managed to control its movements. He had never lasted this long in a spar against Angeal before.

When Zack recovered from a faint, Angeal grinned. “You got better!”

Zack sprinted forward; his sword whistled in the air. “I got practice!”

Angeal stopped the blow again. “From who?” His attacks quickened, and Zack moved into a defensive position

“The simulator?” Zack lunged. Angeal stepped out of its path easily.

“In two days?” Angeal’s sword nicked Zack’s leg before he could dodge completely out of its path.

 _Damnit._ Sticky warmth began to cling to Zack’s body as sweat formed on his brow. “Many hours!”

“We were on employment!” Clash. Parry. Shuffle. Breath. “Then, you took the rest of the day off!”

Zack’s back neared the wall. “It’s a secret!” He rammed Angeal’s sword back and struggled to secure his footing.

_He couldn’t let Angeal win._

Zack quickened his attacks. Angeal moved to the defensive, but only temporarily.

“Where were you yesterday?”

Zack rolled out of the way from Angeal’s precise strike. “The slums.”

“Why?”

Angeal thrusted forcefully, but Zack deflected with equal force.

“Why do you ask?”

Zack attacked. Angeal shifted and parried. The room stunk of sweat.

“I’m worried!” Angeal’s strike was less precise, but faster and heavier. Zack’s pushed back against him with equal measure.

“Well, don’t be!”

_He needed to win this._

Zack blinked away the image of Angeal’s body, pushed back against the memory of Sephiroth’s sword against his, and _fought._

He didn’t fully realize what had happened until Angeal was on the ground. Zack’s vision zeroed in on the wide, crimson slash on his mentor’s forearm.

“Oh my god.” Zack’s sword clattered against the hard training room floor. Underneath his gloves, his hands were sticky with sweat. “ _Angeal,_ oh my god. I’m so sorry.”

Angeal shook his head, getting to his feet. He pulled out a heal Materia. The cut disappeared. Zack couldn’t blink away the red in his vision.

“No harm done. See, I’m fine.”

Zack knew that logically. But… _“You did well, Zack… I’m counting on you for the rest... Never forget your pride…”_

Zack had lashed out. He hadn't been careful. He could've _killed_ Angeal. So, as he looked at Angeal’s perfectly healthy–even smiling—form, Zack felt overwhelming guilt crush him, and he…

He ran.

Zack wasn’t sure for how long or how far he ran. It was long enough for his lungs to burn and the cut on his leg to _beg_ for relief. But he couldn’t stop. If he stopped, the overwhelming of guilt and fear would eat him up.

Eventually, however, Zack crashed against the cold metal wall of a random hallway, trying to catch his breath, or steady his thoughts, or _something._ Zack could barely breathe. His leg throbbed to the rhythm of his rapid heartbeat.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Zack declined the call.

“What’s wrong?”

At the sound of Sephiroth’s voice, Zack jumped and reached for his sword. When he fingers closed in on air, he realized with sudden clarity that he left his sword on the training room floor.

“Nothing,” Zack said quickly. He glanced up at Sephiroth, who was wearing a frown. “What are you doing here?”

“I was on my way back from the labs,” Sephiroth’s voice was tighter than usual, and Zack noticed that his hands had tightened into fists. “What are you here for?”

Zack shuffled uncomfortably and stared at the floor. A pink stain stood out among the tiles. “I…ah…”

“Ran out from training.”

Zack glanced back up in surprise and found Sephiroth looking down at his PHS. Sephiroth looked back over at Zack. “Why?”

A rush of irritation flew through Zack, and he forcefully pushed himself off the wall. Zack’s ignored the increased pain in his leg. “That’s why! You guys are always asking questions! Maybe I don’t _want_ to tell you why!”

Sephiroth leaned against the wall, not saying anything. After a few moments of quiet, Zack felt the anger drain out of him. A dull, throbbing feeling of anger and guilt replaced it. 

“I, uh, hurt Angeal during training,” he admitted softly. He leaned against the wall again to lessen the pain in his leg.

“Oh.” A small smile formed on Sephiroth’s face. “Impressive.”

“ _No,_ not impressive,” Zack snapped. The image of Angeal’s dead and degraded body flashed in his mind’s eye. “I could have killed him.”

“I highly doubt that. Regardless, Angeal’s fine. He wants you to know that he’s impressed, not upset.”

Sephiroth was reading off of his phone again. Zack scoffed, but reliefed blossomed in his chest. Angeal was fine. He wasn’t upset.

“What were you doing in the labs?” Zack asked, searching for a change of subject before he had to dodge anymore questions.

It was Sephiroth’s turn to look uncomfortable. His lips thinned into a straight line, and he studied his PHS before closing it with a small click.

“I was receiving shots from Professor Hojo.”

Goosebumps crawled up Zack’s neck. “What? Why?”

Sephiroth shrugged. “He believes that he might be able to find a way to make other soldiers as strong as me, so he extracts some of my blood every few months to study.” He rolled up his sleeve to reveal a mottled green and purple bruise.

Zack tasted bile, pushing back his memories of being strapped to that cold, metal table. “He’s allowed to do that?”

“I’m under orders.” Sephiroth messaged the crook of his elbow. “And I am loyal to Shinra.”

“That’s…really not the point.” Zack observed a small spot of blood oozing blood hidden among the colored skin. “He didn’t even give you a bandage?”

“Why would he?”

Zack scowled and pulled Aerith’s box of band-aids out of his pocket. After struggling to pull his gloves from his sweaty hands, he ripped open the cardboard box. Then, he grabbed a band-aid and put onto Sephiroth’s bruise.

“There.”

Sephiroth inspected the yellow smiley-face band-aid. “Where did you get these?”

“My friend got them for me.” Zack shrugged, refusing to feel abashed.

Sephiroth let out a small chuckle and pulled his sleeve back down. “Thank you, Zack.”

Zack nodded, glad that at least something had gone right this morning. “No problem.”

Sephiroth inspected Zack. “Perhaps I can return the favor.” He gestured toward Zack’s bloody leg. Zack realized that he was going to have to bring this uniform to maintenance… _again._

“Uh…sure?”

Sephiroth pulled out a Heal Materia. With a wash of magic, the pain in Zack’s leg left him. He tried standing straight again, finding that he could successfully balance on both legs again.

“Thanks!” Zack sighed. “I should probably apologize to Angeal now."

"Probably," Sephiroth agreed, “Come on. I have something I want to talk to him about anyway." 

Zack nodded and followed Sephiroth back toward the training room. You know, after everything that had happened, Zack had forgotten that Sephiroth was pretty nice.

All Zack had to do was keep it that way. Maybe he should consider killing Hojo. He’s been the cause of most of their problems anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure that the part about Sephiroth getting sessions with Hojo is canon, but the headcanon was inspired from the fic [Unplanned Parenthood.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7325923/chapters/16640512)
> 
> This chapter took a long time to write. I'm not super pleased with the fight scene, but eventually you have to throw your hands into the air and say, "good enough!" So, sorry if the fight scene seemed subpar. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for everyone's support so far. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, Angeal.” Zack took a deep breath. “Sorry…for, ah, running out on training like that.”
> 
> Angeal stood up and squeezed Zack on the shoulder gently. “No harm done, except to maybe my pride. That was some truly impressive swordsmanship.”
> 
> Zack’s tense muscles relaxed, and he struggled to school the smile fighting its way onto his face. “I should have been more careful,” Zack insisted, “What if it was worse?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 10 - Trail of blood

It turned out that Zack had managed to run down two flights of stairs after ditching Angeal in the training room. He and Sephiroth took the elevator back up.

“You left quite the trail,” Sephiroth noted dryly upon stepping out of the elevator.

“Huh?” Perplexed, Zack stared at Sephiroth. What was he talking about?

In answer to Zack’s confused expression, Sephiroth pointed at the floor in front of them. Zack looked down to see a small trail of blood on the ground.

“I did that?” Zack bent over and inspected the damaged fabric of his pant leg. Sure enough, it was soaked with blood.

“Doesn’t Angeal tell you to pay attention to your surroundings?” Sephiroth asked. His tone was good-natured, and Zack resisted the urge to bristle.

“Yeah, in active combat.”

Sephiroth smiled slightly. “You would do well to be aware of your surroundings at all times, or you’ll miss something important.”

Zack winced. Sephiroth was right, of course. The number of things Zack might have been able to stop in his first life if he had been paying more attention felt overwhelming. He should have noticed that something was up with Sephiroth in the mansion, not only after he had committed arson.

“Yeah,” Zack said, “I’ll work on that.”

Angeal, who was perfectly healthy, was waiting for them in the longue. To Zack’s embarrassment, Genesis was reading next to him.

“Hey, Angeal.” Zack took a deep breath. “Sorry…for, ah, running out on training like that.”

Angeal stood up and squeezed Zack on the shoulder gently. “No harm done, except to maybe my pride. That was some truly impressive swordsmanship.”

Zack’s tense muscles relaxed, and he struggled to school the smile fighting its way onto his face. “I should have been more careful,” Zack insisted, “What if it was worse?”

“Nothing a phoenix down or materia won’t fix,” Angeal said calmly, “I doubt you could manage to accidently kill me enough for there to be no return.”

Zack bit the inside of his cheek, still able to taste copper. “Still, phoenix downs can’t fix everything, so I’m sorry. I just…I didn’t want you to think I was incompetent or something.”

Zack’s face went hot at the admission. Angeal only frowned and led Zack to sit down on the couch.

“Why would I think that? You’re _not_ incompetent.”

Zack pushed against the soft cushions. “I don’t know…I guess…I don’t want you to give me up as a lost cause,” Zack finally elaborated. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Zack had felt so lost after Angeal had left the first time. He spent hours alone, questions haunting him. Why did Angeal leave? What had he done wrong?

Zack didn’t want to go through that again.

“I would _never_ give up on you,” Angeal promised, “Even if you almost kill me.”

Zack cracked his eyes open. Angeal’s expression was so sincere, it made Zack’s chest hurt. Angeal was lying, even if he didn’t know it. But Zack couldn’t exactly say that, so instead he just nodded.

“Listen, there’s no honor in giving up on your friends.” Angeal rested his hand on the hilt of the Buster Sword, which was leaning against the couch next to him. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

Despite the falsity of the statement, Zack found himself reassured. He straightened up from his slouch. “Okay.”

“All that aside—” Genesis stood up, causing Zack to jump. He forgot that both Sephiroth and Genesis were here. “—I managed to acquire tickets for a production of the _Loveless_ that is taking place this weekend.”

Genesis pulled out some small slips of paper out of his pocket and handed one to Angeal and Sephiroth each. He gave two tickets to Zack.

“One for your friend,” Genesis told Zack, “Don’t lose them.”

Zack jumped to his feet. “Thanks!” He turned to Angeal. “Can I go take it to her?”

Angeal chuckled. “Go ahead.”

Zack nodded and ran off, excited to show Aerith the tickets.

As soon as Zack was in the elevator, Genesis spoke.

“‘Ripples form on the water’s surface. The wandering soul knows no rest.’”

Sephiroth closed his eyes. “The _Loveless,_ Act II.”

Genesis smirked and sat back down, kicking his feet up onto the table with a thump. Angeal cringed.

“For a connoisseur of the arts, you have very little respect for furniture,” he pointed out.

Genesis rolled his eyes. “I prefer the fine arts. This—” He gestured at the table underneath his crossed legs. “—is a cheap metal table.”

Sephiroth chuckled. “If he breaks it, he can replace it with something better.”

“Yes, well, that too,” Genesis admitted, “But this is very besides the original point. Is it just me, or is there something peculiar about that Fair boy?”

Angeal sighed and ran his fingers through his coarse hair. _The wandering soul knows no rest…_ “No, it’s definitely not just you. I see it too.”

Ever since he pulled Zack out from the rubble, there had been something odd about him. Angeal was inclined to chalk it up to trauma; being crushed underneath a building couldn’t be easy.

Still, there was something _different_ about Zack. Almost as if the Zack he knew two days ago wasn’t the Zack he knew now. If only Zack would be willing to _talk_ to him, Angeal might be able to help.

“It’s like he’s a completely different person,” Angeal said, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice.

“Maybe he is,” Genesis proposed.

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Sephiroth said. He rolled up his sleeve and leaned forward. “He gave me this.”

Angeal looked closer and saw a band-aid with smiley-faces on Sephiroth’s mottled bruise. He looked up in concern.

“Hojo’s still drawing blood?”

“That is unimportant at the moment,” Sephiroth deflected. He rolled his sleeve back down. Angeal decided not to push it. Unlike Zack, who became more emotive the harder Angeal pushed for answers, Sephiroth was more likely to shut down.

“Well, it seems that your puppy has still retained some puppy-like qualities,” Genesis mused.

“Yeah, but he’s starting to act like a cornered dog more often than not.” Angeal leaned back into the cushions and stared up at the ceiling. “I wish he would just tell me what was _wrong.”_

“Did you tell your mother everything that was wrong when you were fifteen?” Sephiroth asked.

“Heh, I guess not.” Angeal felt a pang of sympathy for his mother. Maybe he should apologize for being a teenager in his next letter.

“I believe you may not be wrong about him being a different person. Imagine—" Genesis waved his hand through the air. “—the boy you used to know as Zack Fair is gone. Instead, an imposter is in his place, a messenger gifted by the goddess to correct a bleak future.”

Angeal snorted. “Sorry, Genesis, but this isn’t one of your epic poems or plays. I’m fairly certain that Zack Fair is still Zack Fair.”

“There are a few options as to what is going on.” Sephiroth began to count off on his fingers. “One: Fair is traumatized and doesn’t wish to talk about it. Two: Fair is having a bad day. Three: Fair is simply maturing and suffering through mood swings.”

Genesis held up four fingers. “Fourthly: he is not Zack Fair at all.”

Angeal ignored him. “It’s possible that it’s all three. I just wish he would talk to me about it.”

Footsteps approached and Angeal looked up to see another second-class Soldier—Angeal believed his name was Kunsel—approach them.

“You talking about Zack?”

Angeal hesitated. There was no honor in spreading rumors about Zack behind his back. Genesis, however, spoke immediately. “Are you acquainted with him?”

Kunsel nodded. “Yes, sir. I’m his roommate.”

Oh. In that case, Kunsel has likely already noticed Zack’s strange behavior.

“Has Fair been doing anything…strange lately?” Sephiroth asked. Angeal noted with some amusement that Kunsel straightened at being addressed by the famous soldier.

Kunsel crossed his arms. “Actually, yes. I came in late last night, and he was writing a letter to his parents. And then, this morning, he said he had done something stupid before leaving. Did something happen?”

“A few things, actually,” Angeal sighed, “Last deployment, Zack got crushed by a building. Scared the living daylights out of me.”

Kunsel’s jaw dropped. “What!? He didn’t tell me...”

“Then, in training, he accidently cut me and ran away.” Angeal looked at his skin where the gash once was. Only a thin silver scar remained.

“We were theorizing on what could be wrong,” Sephiroth continued, “Do you have any ideas?”

Kunsel shifted slightly, stroking a non-existent beard. “Well…we should probably look at all the facts first. What do we know?”

“He’s more skittish and volatile than usual,” Angeal said. He recalled Zack almost drawing his sword and attacking Sephiroth the day before.

Genesis pulled a small notebook and pen out of his pocket. The pen scritched across the paper as Genesis began to write notes.

“Secretive,” Kunsel added.

“More skilled with the sword than he was before,” Genesis muttered into his notebook.

“He’s afraid of Angeal leaving him, though I have no idea where he got that idea. Angeal couldn’t be dishonorable if he tried.” Sephiroth said. Angeal smiled slightly, gripping the hilt of his sword.

“He wanted to write to his parents in the middle of the night,” Kunsel said, “And he was crushed by a building yesterday.”

“He panicked after hurting me and ran away.” Angeal took his hand off of his sword in order to massage his temple.

Genesis took his feet off of the table and rested his notes down on it instead. Angeal struggled to read Genesis’s tiny cursive, but Kunsel didn’t even bother trying to read it.

“It sounds like the symptoms of PTSD,” he said, “Unless Zack tells us directly what’s wrong, I can’t see it being anything else.”

“Well, we should keep an eye on him anyway,” Angeal decided. He turned away from Genesis’ notebook to Kunsel. “Tell us if anything more extreme happens, okay?”

Kunsel nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Genesis snapped his notebook shut, reached into his pocket, and pulled out another ticket for the _Loveless._ “Here,” he said briskly, “Fair is joining us this weekend. Perhaps he will reveal something illuminating.”

Kunsel took the ticket and stared at Genesis. “Uh…thank you, sir!”

Genesis smirked. “‘Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess. We seek it thus, and then take to the sky.’”

“ _Loveless_ , Act I,” Sephiroth supplied to the confused looking Kunsel.

Kunsel nodded and ran off. Angel let out a barking laugh.

Zack found Aerith tending to her flowers, talking to another girl. Zack’s footsteps echoed loudly, and Aerith looked up almost immediately.

“Oh, Zack!” she exclaimed with a smile.

“Hey Aerith,” he said, already feeling more at ease than he had felt all day. He looked over at the little girl, who couldn’t be older than nine. A large hat hid most of her dark hair, but nothing was hiding her suspicious glare in Zack’s direction.

“Who are you?” she asked.

Aerith turned to the young girl. “Kyrie, this is Zack Fair. He’s a new friend of mine.” Zack waved awkwardly. “Zack, this is Kyrie Canaan. She’s a good friend of mine.”

Kyrie stood up and shook Zack’s hand with a grip so forceful that Zack wouldn’t have believed it possible from a nine-year-old girl.

“Nice to meet you,” he said cheerfully. It was nice to know that Aerith had some friends, even if they were about five years younger than her.

“Yeah,” Kyrie said, her voice still suspicious. She turned back to Aerith. “Is he your boyfriend?”

There was the smallest pause before Aerith and Zack both shook their heads immediately. “Don’t be silly!” Aerith exclaimed. “You’ve got the wrong idea!” Zack said at the same time.

Kyrie crossed her arms. “Uh huh.” She smirked and held up two tickets. “Then what are these?”

Zack quickly reached into his pocket and found it empty. Frantically, he searched his other pockets. All empty. Aerith put her hands on her hips, giving Kyrie a look of disapproval.

“Don’t pickpocket guests!” she admonished, “Apologize, please.”

Kyrie gave Aerith and Zack a reproachful look before handing the tickets back to him. “Sorry!” she said, sounding suddenly cheerful, “Bad habit. Seriously, though. What are the tickets for?”

Zack looked down at the tickets in his hands. “I was going to invite Aerith to see a play with me and some of my friends. Just as _friends.”_

Aerith smiled. “Really? That sounds like fun!”

She took one of the tickets from Zack, who was still reeling from being pickpocketed by a little girl. It wasn’t exactly the first time a child had stolen from him, but every time left his pride severely wounded.

“I should head back to my grandma,” Kyrie said, “Have fun!” Her voice echoed loudly in the church as she ran off.

Aerith shook her head. “Sorry about that,” she said, “Her parents were pickpockets, so she has a habit of stealing.”

“I understand,” Zack said quickly. After two years of going to the slums to visit Aerith, Zack understood that morality and survival were sometimes incompatible. Heck, even Angeal stole when he was younger.

“Thanks.” Aerith held up her ticket. “So, will I have to wear something nice?”

Zack scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know, to be honest. But just so you know, Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis will be there.”

Aerith hummed for a moment, looking down at her ticket. “I’ll just wear something nice, but not fancy,” she decided.

“Good plan.” Zack glanced down at his uniform. “I’ll probably just go in this.”

“What happened to your pants?” Aerith pointed down at Zack’s bloody pant-leg.

Zack groaned. “I completely forgot about that. I was going to take it to maintenance.” Aerith giggled. Zack’s PHS vibrated in his pocket. “Here, let me see this.”

Aerith nodded, and Zack flipped it open. It was an email from Kunsel.

**Subject: What’s Up?**

_I heard what happened at training. Are you alright? Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth are worried about you. I told them what I knew, sorry. I’m worried too. How come_ _you didn’t tell me about the building yesterday? I would have taken you seriously, I promise! By the way, I was invited to see the play with you guys, hope you don’t mind. Tell me what’s on your mind._

Zack was about to close the phone before he realized. He was about to ignore Kunsel _again._ Five minutes. It should only take five minutes.

Zack clicked reply.

 _Hey, Kunsel. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine! It’s cool that you’re coming to the play with us. Thanks for looking out for me, but I’m totally fine. See you around!_ :) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are unfamiliar, Kyrie Canaan is a character from the Compilation of Final Fantasy 7 and the Remake. She won't be playing a huge role, but in the timeline, she doesn't break ties with Aerith until Aerith is fifteen, so I figured I'd give her a scene. 
> 
> Yay! Zack finally responded to his emails. Give this boy a medal. :)
> 
> Also, I just can't see Angeal managing to sit on a couch with that giant sword on his back, which is why it was resting beside him. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kunsel struggles with a comb. Sephiroth hides from fans. Genesis teaches everyone how to be the perfect theatre-goer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 11 - Crying

That weekend was met by last minute preparation on _everyone’s_ part.

Kunsel, for the first time in Zack’s memory, was wearing a suit. He hissed violently as he attacked his hair with a comb.

“How often do you comb your hair, anyway?” Zack asked. He hadn’t bothered to change clothing. His uniform was comfortable, and this one had managed to be unscathed.

“As often as people see it,” Kunsel gritted out. Zack winced in sympathy as Kunsel struggled to pull the comb teeth out from his hair.

“Maybe you should try a brush.” Zack thought for a minute. “Sephiroth might have one.”

Kunsel scoffed and rolled his eyes. “With hair like his? A comb is the only way to get that silky quality.”

“He also uses whole bottles of shampoo and conditioner every time he showers,” Zack recalled from the Silver Elite’s emails. He didn’t want to know how Sephiroth’s fans managed to get a hold of that specific tidbit of information.

A loud rapping echoed from the other side of the door. Zack jumped off his bed and rushed over to answer it, stumbling over one of his own dirty uniforms strewn on the floor.

Genesis had also forwent wearing any new clothing and was instead wearing his iconic red jacket.

“Are you nearly ready? Ideally, we should be leaving in about fifteen minutes.”

“You didn’t trust us to be ready on time without reminding us first?” Zack asked, crossing his arms.

Genesis glanced over at Kunsel, who was beginning to swear profanities at his comb. “No. However, if you _are_ ready, you may accompany me in retrieving Sephiroth and Angeal.”

Zack nodded. “Alright then.”

“I’m coming too,” Kunsel added, “Just because this comb does not bend to my will, doesn’t mean I can’t fix my hair and walk at the same time.”

Genesis nodded and turned around. “Very well, follow me.” He gestured for them to follow.

They stopped in front of Angeal’s room first. Genesis knocked the door loudly. It swished open, revealing a bedroom full of plants.

“We’re leaving?” Angeal asked.

“Yes,” Genesis sniffed, “Now, get out here and close the door behind you. I don’t want any of those bugs getting into _my_ bedroom.”

Angeal rolled his eyes as he walked into the hallway and closed the door behind him. “I’m not getting rid of my plants.”

Genesis sighed. “I know you’re not.”

When they reached Sephiroth’s room, Genesis turned around. “Alright, bets. What do you think Sephiroth is wearing?”

What was this all about?

“What he always wears?” Zack proposed, having a feeling this was the wrong answer.

“If only,” Genesis said, “Angeal?”

“Probably casual clothing,” Angeal said with a shrug.

“Not a suit?” Kunsel asked, glancing down at his own nice outfit. Zack tried to imagine Sephiroth in a nice suit, but the image didn’t fit.

“Your outfit is fine,” Genesis said, “And ideal for theatre goers. I forgo such clothing because _I_ have a reputation. Personally, I believe Sephiroth’s wrestling on the biggest trench-coat he can find.”

“Why?” Zack asked, not entirely sure why Sephiroth wouldn’t be wearing what he always wore.

“You’ll see,” Angeal said, a knowing smile on his face.

Genesis knocked. The door opened. A thick odor of what Zack assumed was air freshener filled the hallway. Kunsel coughed.

Sephiroth, like Angeal predicted, was wearing jeans and a black shirt. His silver hair was tied up in a bun, and the man was wearing _sunglasses._ Zack forced himself not the gape in shock.

“Sephiroth, you cannot be famous and then refuse to show your face in public,” Genesis said, irritation showing in his voice.

“You want to see a show?” Sephiroth asked, “Because it’s hard to do that with fans flocking us at every street corner.”

“You must learn to take it in stride." Genesis gestured at his own jacket.

“Come on, Sephiroth,” Angeal said, his voice good-natured, “Where’s your soldier pride?”

“Where my sanity will be if I flaunt myself in public,” Sephiroth said dryly.

“Kunsel’s not wearing his uniform either,” Zack pointed out.

“Last time I went out in my uniform, I was yelled at by an officer to stop lazing around,” Kunsel said with a shudder. He had managed to comb most of his hair and was working through one last knot. “Now, I make sure I’m at least not wearing my helmet when I go places.”

“Well, it seems that everyone is prepared,” Genesis said, “Where are we picking up your friend?”

“She’ll be meeting us at the Loveless Avenue station,” Zack said, reciting from the map he and Aerith had poured over the previous day, “She lives in Sector five, so the perimeter line station should take her straight there.”

“Well, that certainly simplifies things,” Genesis said, glancing at his PHS for the time, “We should go if we wish to catch the next train.”

When they got onto the train, Zack suddenly understood why Sephiroth was so insistent on going incognito.

About one minute after the train started moving, a couple of teenage girls wearing coats that looked like Genesis’ approached him, hesitantly asking Genesis for an autograph. Genesis practically _preened_ while he signed their copies of the _Loveless._

Two minutes into the train ride, Angeal was approached by a man who wanted tips on how to properly curate indoor plants. The group had to suffer through a speech about pruning, draining the water, and a whole bunch of other stuff that Zack was never going to remember.

The guy asking about the plants, however, looked as though his entire world had changed at Angeal’s words. He left with such thanks that out of context, Zack would’ve thought that Angeal saved the man’s life.

Zack swayed as the train came to its fifth stop. With a loud beep, the train doors opened, and a few giggling little boys came dashing in. Long, silver-haired wigs were on their heads, and they were haphazardly waving around foam Masamunes through the air.

Genesis made a disgruntled sound. Sephiroth turned his back to the boys.

The taller boy sat down on one of the seats, staring at Sephiroth’s back carefully. “Hey Mommy,” he whispered to a tall woman sitting next to him, “Is that Sephiroth?”

“Honey, just because a man has silver hair, it does not mean he’s Sephiroth,” the woman said patiently, “And don’t point. It’s rude.”

It took everything Zack had not to laugh.

“But look!” the smaller boy said, jumping on his seat and pointing at their group violently, “There’s Angeal and Genesis!”

To her credit, the woman only stared for a moment before looking away suddenly and saying, “It’s rude to stare.”

About ten more people asked for autographs during the rest of the train ride. Zack found himself wondering why _he_ never got surrounded by fans when he had been a First-Class soldier. He knew he had a fan club at one point, but man, Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis’s popularity was at a whole other level.

Then again, Zack had enough to deal with without crazy fans being added to the fray. And, come to think of it, Zack did remember giving out the rare autograph.

When they stepped off the train at Loveless Avenue, the musty odor of the station caused Zack to scrunch his face up in disgust. Separate groups of people were waiting outside, and their conversations filled the area.

Genesis flipped open his PHS and frowned, snapping it closed. “We have thirty minutes until the production begins.”

“What’s wrong?” Zack asked, “That’s plenty of time.”

“No,” Kunsel corrected, “The house opens thirty minutes before the production. Ideally, you would be there right at thirty minutes before, so that you can find your seats as soon as the doors open.”

Zack pulled his ticket out of his pocket and glanced down. “But our seats are reserved.”

“It’s etiquette to be there as early as possible,” Genesis snapped. He glanced up and down the dark station. “Now, where is your friend?”

Sephiroth hid behind Genesis as a group of girls spotted him. Zack scanned the station for Aerith. A pink dress flashed in the corner of his eye. Upon looking closer, Zack could easily see Aerith looking up at the night sky.

“Over there!” Zack pointed over to Aerith.

Genesis nodded. “Lead the way.”

The group approached Aerith quickly, avoiding stares. Aerith spotted them and waved.

“Hello!” she said.

“Hey, Aerith,” Zack said, “You look nice.”

“Thanks.” Aerith touched the ornate gold necklace that Zack hadn’t even noticed before. “The necklace was my mother’s.”

Zack wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to say to that, so instead, he turned to the others. “This is Aerith,” he informed them. He turned back to Aerith. “Aerith, meet Angeal, Genesis, Kunsel, and Sephiroth.”

Aerith shook their hands, smiling brightly. “It’s nice to meet you all. Zack’s told me so much about you.”

Genesis raised his eyebrows at Zack. “Have you?”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Aerith,” Angeal said, “It’s good to know that Zack has a life outside of Soldier.”

Zack most certainly did _not_ roll his eyes at that statement. 

“We should probably get moving,” Kunsel said, checking his own PHS for the time, “We have twenty-five minutes.”

They reached the theatre with fifteen minutes to spare. The brightly lit room was warm compared to the cold night outside. Zack glanced down at his ticket.

“We’re in row F?” he asked, looking for row markers.

Genesis nodded and led them to a row with the gold letter F on the outer seat. “Any self-respecting theatre-goer sits in the middle rows.” He sat down in the center of the row. Zack sat between Aerith and Kunsel. Zack sunk into the soft cushion of his seat. “It gives you the best visibility of the stage.”

Sephiroth took off his sunglasses and began flipping through the brochure that the usher had handed them on the way in.

“Anything interesting?” Angeal asked, looking over Sephiroth’s shoulder.

“I wouldn’t know,” Sephiroth shrugged, “Though I’m sure it will be useful when the show actually starts.”

Aerith looked over to Genesis. “How many times have you seen this?”

“About fifteen times, perhaps,” Genesis said, “However, each production is different, whether it be the musical quality, effects, or acting.”

“What’s your favorite production so far?”

Before Genesis could reply, the lights dimmed, and a hush came over the theatre.

All in all, the production was pretty good. Zack enjoyed it, at least. The music sounded good, the acting was convincing, and Zack hardly noticed that the special effects were real.

The plot was…interesting…to say the least. Every couple of minutes, something would click for Zack, and he suddenly understood what Genesis was referring to whenever he referenced the Loveless in Zack's original timeline. Still, there were some discomforting similarities of the plot to Zack’s own life.

The male lead spoke the final line of the show. “Of course…I’ll come back to you. Even if you don’t promise to wait. I’ll return knowing that you’ll be here.”

Kunsel burst into loud tears, and a few tears slipped down Aerith’s cheeks. Zack’s own eyes were burning, and he struggled against the bursting feeling in his lungs.

_“I’ll see you, I promise.”_

_I have twenty-three tiny wishes. But you probably won’t remember them all. So, I put them all together into one: I’d like to spend more time with you._

He promised Aerith he would come back to her. He _promised._ And instead he died with Midgar in his sights. _88 letters. Twenty-three tiny wishes._

He glanced back over to Kunsel. _Just make it back alive, buddy. Promise me._

The audience’s applause was a thunderstorm, but Zack barely heard it. He put his fist over his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. He was alive. He had a second chance. Zack may have failed his friends before, but he _wasn’t_ going to do it again.

That was a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little bit more filler than the others, but it was a good time to introduce Aerith to the others. 
> 
> By the way, I would like to thank WhispyTangyFoxhunt for the idea about Sephiroth merch; it was really fun to write.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bullets sped past Zack, and he dodged. Suddenly, he wasn’t facing Wutai privates on a beach. He was facing Shinra’s army on a cliffside. They had come for him. They had come for Cloud.
> 
> _The price of freedom is steep._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 13 alternate prompt - Shot

The next week found Zack and Angeal on a helicopter, flying down toward a battle on one of Wutai’s beaches. Cold wind smacked Zack’s face, and he could barely hear over the sound of the helicopter’s blades.

In all honesty, Zack had nearly forgotten that there was a war in Wutai to begin with. Everything that could have gone wrong occurred pretty much right when the war ended, so Zack had put it out of his mind.

He couldn’t afford to do that now. Every detail mattered. He should really be keeping a notebook of everything he knew, but Zack hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

After the show last week, Zack had intended to find a way to naturally ask either Angeal, Genesis, or Sephiroth if they wanted to find a time to go see Aerith again. Zack knew that Aerith would be an amazing influence for the men and the problems in their friendship. The problem was that Zack wasn’t sure how to breech the subject without coming off as weird.

That seemed to be a common theme for Zack lately.

The beach was getting closer, and Zack glanced over at Angeal. He was standing next to Zack, holding his non-descript sword.

Zack could hear the sounds of the battle below. It was now or never.

“Do the three of you want to hang out with me and Aerith some time?” Zack asked in a rush.

Angeal glanced over at Zack, a single eyebrow raised. “What was that?!” he shouted over the beating of the helicopter.

“Do you, Genesis, and Sephiroth want to hang out with me and Aerith some time?!” Zack asked again, this time shouting loud enough so that Angeal could hear.

Angeal’s face flickered with an expression that Zack couldn’t understand, but before Zack could ask about it, Angeal smirked.

“Sure!”

If Zack had trusted himself not to swallow a bug with this rushing wind, he would have gaped in surprise. Angeal agreed that easily? No weird questions about Zack’s strange behavior? No whys?

No. Angeal had just said “sure” plain as day. Zack was sure of it.

“Really!?” Zack asked in surprise.

Angeal smiled more broadly. “You heard me!”

Angeal glanced down out of the helicopter, and Zack followed his line of sight. They were nearly close enough to jump off into the fight. Zack grabbed his sword tightly. This should be easy. Hopefully.

“Get ready!” Angeal instructed Zack, crouching down for the jump. Zack followed suit, having done so many times before.

Closer…closer…just a few more seconds…

“Now!”

Zack propelled his feet off of the airborne vehicle. His stomach dropped with the ten feet fall. Upon hitting the rough, hot sand, Zack did a barrel roll and landed solidly on his feet. He was ready.

Wutai soldiers with spears surrounded him. Zack waited, avoided their attacks, and retaliated with a large sweep of his sword. Soldiers went down one by one.

Zack ran forward. Armored soldiers advanced. Their spears slashed toward him. Zack slid out of the way. Sand sprayed in the air. With one stroke of his sword, the soldier’s spears were cut in half.

The soldiers didn’t stop, however. They ran at Zack with their broken weapons. Zack disarmed them, and they attacked with their fists. Zack tried to knock them unconscious with the butt of his sword, but…

One, two, three soldiers fell to the ground. Blood was on Zack’s sword. Blood stained the sand. More soldiers followed.

Zack continued fighting, disarming where he could, killing where he had to. He was a soldier. That was part of the job. This was war.

This was _too_ easy _._

The sound of cocking rang in Zack’s ears behind him. He spun around. Wutai privates—maybe thirty in all—stood in front of Zack. Their gun barrels were pointing straight at him.

Bullets sped past Zack, and he dodged. Suddenly, he wasn’t facing Wutai privates on a beach. He was facing Shinra’s army on a cliffside. They had come for him. They had come for Cloud.

_The price of freedom is steep._

Run. Dodge. Slice. Two soldiers down. More gunfire. Zack rolled out of the way and hit them from behind. Four soldiers down.

Bullets grazed and even hit him, but Zack was too fast for any real damage. His heart beat to the rhythm of his thoughts: _Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die._ Five soldiers.

His sword was getting heavier. He lifted it, but it didn’t find a target. _Zack_ couldn’t find a target. The world was spinning around him.

“Zack, it’s over now.” Someone’s face swam in front of his vision. Strong hands grasped his shoulders firmly.

“Angeal,” Zack recognized aloud. Salt air filled his lungs, and he suddenly remembered where he was. He wasn’t facing Shinra. He was in Wutai.

“Yeah,” Angeal said. His voice was soft, comforting. “It’s over. You did great.”

Zack looked around. Shinra’s soldiers were there, but they weren’t pointing their guns at Zack. Instead, they were looking around the now quiet battlefield. The beach was splayed with bodies. A large number of Wutai soldiers lay by Zack’s feet.

Bile burned at Zack’s throat.

“I did that?” he asked. Zack’s arm itched, and he touched it with his opposite hand. It felt sticky. Zack looked down. His hand was red.

Angeal nodded. “Here.” He cast cure, and the itching pain stopped.

Zack glanced back down at the bodies around him. The tide was already beginning to wash away the blood on the sand.

Shinra made death seem glorious. According to them, there was no heroic act greater than dying for your army. But Zack _had_ died. It hadn’t felt glorious. It had felt cold. It was painful. It was _terrifying._

Zack had killed all of those people. All the people at his feet had felt that same cold, that same pain, that same terror. Zack was beginning to understand why Angeal never used his Buster Sword. There was no honor in war. At least, it didn’t feel like it.

Zack’s eyes burned, and Angeal wrapped his arms around Zack. He buried his face into Angeal’s cotton sweater. It smelled like fertilizer. Angeal’s embrace felt strong, warm, and comforting. But most importantly, it made Zack feel _safe_.

Zack’s chest _ached,_ and in that moment, he wanted to tell Angeal everything. But he didn’t. He was too afraid of what would happen if he did.

So instead he hugged Angeal back, clutching onto him tightly.

Angeal was called into Lazard’s office the next day.

Yesterday’s battle had been _disturbing_ , for lack of a better word, and Angeal’s mind still played the battle over and over again like a broken record.

Angeal had cleaned up one side of the battle. When he turned around to help Zack, he found the young teen fiercely cutting through Wutai soldiers like a man with nothing left to lose.

Angeal had never been more afraid for Zack in his life. Because if Zack went through something to look like _that,_ there was more going on than met the eye.

From prior experience, Angeal had known not to push Zack for answers when he became more aware of his surroundings.

_“I did that?”_

With those words, Angeal felt a small part of his war-hardened heart break. Because Zack had finally figured out the true meaning of war. His childlike innocence was forever lost, so Angeal did the only thing he could: he hugged Zack. And Zack returned the embrace, clutching onto Angeal tightly like a frightened child.

Sometimes Angeal forgot how young some of these soldiers were.

Now, Angeal was gladder than ever that he had accepted Zack’s invitation earlier. Maybe these visits with Aerith would shed light on what was happening to Zack.

There was a high possibility that Kunsel was right, however. Zack certainly had PTSD, and now Zack understood what war meant. It was possible Zack was just maturing too soon.

But there was an unresolved feeling in Angeal’s gut, and he had a hunch that wasn’t all there was to it.

With those thoughts in mind, Angeal entered Lazard’s office. The man was sitting behind his desk, looking at his computer screen intently. Angeal could hear the familiar sounds of fighting emerging from the device.

“You called?” Angeal asked.

Lazard looked up. “Ah, yes.”

Angeal approached closer to Lazard’s desk with cautious curiosity. “What do you need?”

Lazard pulled out some papers with a rustle and clicked open a pen before glancing back up at Angeal. “I want to promote Zack Fair to First.”

“No.” Angeal crossed his arms tightly. “Absolutely not.”

Lazard raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “I assume you have a reason for this?”

Angeal scoffed, and he resisted rolling his eyes at the director. Instead, he dug his nails into his arms. The pain grounded him.

What could Lazard possibly be thinking, wanting to promote a teenager into the highest ranking the army? A _mentally unstable_ teenager at that? Talk about a recipe for disaster.

“Zack doesn’t need promotions right now,” Angeal said firmly, “He needs therapy.”

“Fair has shown talent rarely seen in Shinra walls,” Lazard countered, pointing to his computer monitor with his pen, “He managed to defeat you.”

That was true. “That is completely beside the point,” Angeal said, “Zack is a _kid.”_

“It is my duty as director of Soldier to see potential and cultivate it.” Lazard stood up. “The teenagers who walk in here are no longer children. They are soldiers. One may say that it is Fair’s duty to go where the company asks him to.”

Angeal let out another scoff and ran his fingers through his hair. “Director, I believe Zack is currently suffering from PTSD. Putting him under more stress would do more harm than good.”

Being a soldier first class was more than simply having the highest rank in the army. It meant talk shows, sponsored commercials, and being recognized on the streets. It meant huge fan clubs that found information about your private life.

Zack didn’t need that right now.

“His performance yesterday was the best I have ever seen it.” Lazard began filling out the form on his desk. Angeal slammed his hand on top of it. Lazard jumped.

“The trauma’s too fresh,” Angeal insisted, “At least give him a year to adjust.”

Lazard studied Angeal. Angeal found himself praying for Lazard to listen. Zack couldn’t handle being a First.

When Lazard sighed and sat back down, Angeal felt a swooping sensation in his gut. He knew he was victorious.

“Very well,” Lazard said, “But only a few more months. I will be asked uncomfortable questions if I sit on this sort of potential for too long.”

Angeal would rather it be a few years, but he would have to take what he could get. “Thank you. Is there anything else you needed?”

Lazard smiled wryly. “No, that will be all.”

Angeal nodded and left the room quickly, just in case Lazard suddenly changed his mind. Then again, it didn’t exactly matter. Angeal didn’t have any authority over the director. It was a miracle Lazard had asked for Angeal’s opinion at all.

A few months wasn’t a long time, but Angeal would try and make the most of it. Zack deserved that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took yesterday off to work on my outline some more. But now I'm back! :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reno runs into Zack again. Zack gets some replies. Cloud gets love advice.

Reno was just done with his shift in Sector 8. He was ready for a nice warm meal before he got some much-needed sleep.

He pushed open the door to one of his favorite fast food restaurants. The smell of delicious, salty food filled the air. It was late, so the room was empty of chatter as he walked inside. Good. An empty restaurant meant that his favorite booth would be empty.

Reno ordered his salad with spicy fries at the counter. He may or may not have flirted with the hot chick at the counter, but all of his attempts were in vain, so it was better that there was nothing said on the matter.

Having acquired his food, Reno turned toward his favorite booth, ready to eat.

But his favorite chair wasn’t empty like Reno had previously assumed. No. There was someone _sitting_ in _his_ favorite chair.

Frustration and disappointment churned in Reno’s gut, and he toyed with the idea of abusing his authority as a Turk. Better not. The last time Reno tried something like that, Tseng practically killed him. It was terrifying.

With a shudder, Reno decided to express himself in a much safer way. He groaned. Loudly. And probably immaturely.

The perpetrator looked up from his food, and Reno felt frustration and disappointment give way to betrayal and shock. He knew this kid. It was that weird kid he met at the bar a few weeks ago. What was his name again? Zax? Jack? Reno decided to address him the safe way.

“You!”

“Reno?” The kid grimaced. “We met before, right? I’m Zack.”

Reno took the liberty to sidle into _his_ favorite booth and sit across from Zack. After safely placing his food down. He crossed his arms.

“Yeah, we’ve met,” he said, “What are you doing here? This is my favorite booth, you know?” 

Zack’s eyes widened. “Really? I had no idea you even came here.” He hesitated. “…I can move if you want.”

Reno huffed, feeling his pettiness drain out of him. “No, it’s fine.” He grabbed one of his fries and took a bite. The spiciness blasted on his tongue. Delicious. “Seriously, though, what are you doin’ here?”

Zack glanced down at the empty burger wrapper and mug in his hands. “Eating?”

“Not anymore you’re not.”

Zack fidgeted uncomfortably and said nothing. Reno’s question was answered, however, when the chick from earlier came up to their table with a coffee pot in her hand.

“Refill?” she asked Zack.

Zack lifted his mug in reply. The waitress poured coffee into the mug before leaving without a word to Reno. Talk about rude.

“You stole my favorite spot for coffee?” Reno asked indignantly, “Because there are coffee shops for that, you know.”  
“It’s not coffee. The last time I had _that_ was a fiasco.” Zack shuddered, and Reno found his curiosity peak. He took a sip of the mystery drink. He grimaced and stuck his tongue out. “Hot.”

“What is it then?” Reno took a sip of his own cold water. “Looks a little dark for tea.”

“Hot chocolate.” Zack took a few gulps of water from his own glass. “This place makes _really good_ hot chocolate.”

That much was true, although Reno wasn’t much of a hot chocolate person to begin with.

“Fair enough, I guess.” Reno shrugged and jabbed his fork into his salad. He bit into it with a loud crunch.

Zack raised a small eyebrow. “Why are you eating salad with French fries?”

“A Turk’s got to keep a steady diet,” Reno said, jabbing his fork in Zack’s direction, “It’s a health thing. Probably not something you Soldiers would understand.”

Zack laughed. “Probably not.” His face grew suddenly solemn. “I’ve been thinking lately.”

“That’s a first,” Reno said, hoping to get Zack a little more smiley, “I’ve never heard of a Soldier that thought. Isn’t that a Turk’s job?”

Zack cracked a small smile and took a sip out of his mug. “That’s kind of what I’ve been thinking about,” Zack said, his voice suddenly quiet, “I mean, Shinra tells you all these great things about being a Soldier. Becoming a hero, getting fame, the works.”

Zack became quiet, and the only sound was Reno chewing his lettuce. After he swallowed, Reno found himself anxious to hear what Zack was getting at.

“But…” he prompted.

Zack shook himself. “Right.” He took a large sip of his hot chocolate. “Well, it’s not really true. My friend once told me that heroes are chosen by the media, and he’s right. Shinra just sends us to fight their battles and kill the enemy.”

Well…that was an uncomfortable truth. As a Turk, Reno could rest in the knowledge that he wasn’t exactly expendable, but he never thought about what it might be like to be a soldier among thousands. He tried to find something to say in return, but he honestly couldn’t come up with anything.

The waitress chick came back, looking bored. “Refill?”

Reno watched in fascination as Zack gave her his cup to be filled to the brim with more hot chocolate.

As he watched Zack continue to guzzle the drink, he felt that he might want to intervene just this once.

“You do know that you have to pay for each refill, right?”

The effect was instantaneous. Zack blanched, and he slammed the mug down onto the table, giving it a look of utmost betrayal. Reno was reminded of when the kid gave his shot glass the same look a few weeks before.

“No,” he said, “Where does it say that?!”

Reno pointed at the menu at the wall, trying his hardest not to laugh. It was a losing battle. “Read the fine print underneath _Hot Drinks_.”

Zack squinted at the menu. A look of resignation formed on his face. “200 gil per refill,” he whispered. He sunk back into Reno’s favorite booth.

“Be honest with me, kid. How many refills have you had?” Reno asked with increasing amusement.

The kid rested his forehead on the table with a thump. “Ten,” he admitted in a muffled voice.

Reno whistled. He was suddenly very glad that Zack had not found the alcohol delicious a few weeks ago. “Might want to put an end to your hot chocolate addiction.”

Zack groaned. Reno stopped himself from saying, _“Serves you right for stealing my favorite booth.”_

“Here,” Reno said, taking pity on the poor kid. He handed Zack 200 gil. “That’s one out of ten refills I’ve paid for.”

Zack hesitated. “Are you sure?”

Reno nodded. “But you owe me one, don’t forget.” Reno honestly doubted that he’d ever see the kid again, but life was full of surprises. Just as long as he didn’t steal his favorite booth again.

Zack laughed again. Reno felt very pleased with himself. “Alright,” Zack agreed.

Eventually, the waitress gave them both their bills. Zack gave them a particularly grim look, but it was still better than that depressed outlook he was having earlier.

“I’ll see you around?” Zack asked as they walked out of the restaurant.

“You have to,” Reno agreed, “You owe me one, remember?”

Zack nodded. “Got it.”

As Reno crashed into his bed that night, he vaguely wondered what he would use his unspecified favor for. Probably nothing. Still…Reno better save it for something good.

Zack arrived back at his room that night with his stomach churning. It was a sadly natural consequence of drinking too much hot chocolate, so it was probably for the best that Reno stopped him with the truth about payed refills when he did.

Upon Zack’s arrival, Kunsel snapped his book shut. He stood up from his bed and held out two envelopes to Zack.

“These are for you,” he said, “You must be pretty popular, huh?”

Zack chuckled nervously as he took the paper from Kunsel. “I don’t know.” He glanced at the back of them. One was from Gongaga, and the other was from Nibelheim. “How come both of these came at the same time? Isn’t Nibelheim farther than Gongaga?”

“They were in your mailbox,” Kunsel said with a shrug, “For all I know, the one from Gongaga was from a while ago. Do you check your mail daily?”

“Yeah…no.” Zack looked down at his envelopes guiltily. He had almost forgotten about the letters he had sent a couple of weeks ago. In his defense, he got a little too preoccupied about that training disaster with Angeal, and then he supposed his embarrassing letter to Cloud had been lost in the background.

Now that he was staring at the untidy scrawl that had an address from Nibelheim, Zack was starting to feel regrets.

He sunk onto his bed, ripping open the envelope from Gongaga. His hands were slick with sweat, and he struggled to pull the letter out.

_Zack,_

_Thank you so much for your letter. We’re so glad to hear from you after all these years. I hope you’re still eating well at Midgar. I would hate to hear that you aren’t taking care of yourself._

_Whatever you went through, know that we will always support you. We love you very much, and we only want what’s best for you. But please, promise us you’ll stay safe doing whatever you’re doing in Midgar. We think you may have joined the Soldier program, but we wouldn’t like to jump to conclusions._

_Lots of love,_

_Mom and Dad_

_PS: If you can find time for it in your schedule, could you please visit? We would love to see you again._

Zack stared at the letter, guilt clawing at his chest. He forgot that he had only written one letter to his parents in his past life, and that was only after he had started dating Aerith. In this timeline, this was the first contact Zack had with his parents in two years.

He really should find time to visit his parents. Massaging his forehead, Zack placed the letter down on his bed. He would worry about that later.

Zack attacked the envelope from Nibelheim with even more dread. He didn’t want to know how Cloud had deigned to reply to his creepy letter. Zack could practically shoot himself for his stupidity earlier.

…Maybe Zack should watch his metaphors.

Zack unfolded the letter, his heart pounding loudly. On the bright side, if Cloud got really freaked out, maybe he wouldn’t join Soldier. Although it would limit Zack’s interaction with him, it would be better for Cloud in the long run.

_Hi?_

_My mom says that I should write my letters politely, but I don’t think you’ll mind if I save my hand from cramping._

_Your letter was kind of freaky, to be honest. Next time, be a little more subtle._

_Anyway, your a soldier? Whats it like? I was thinking about joining. I want to be a hero like Sephiroth. Tifa will notice me then._

_-Cloud_

Zack let out a shocked laugh. Kunsel raised an eyebrow from the book he was reading.

“What’s so funny?”

Zack shook his head. He waved the letter in Kunsel’s general direction. “Nothing, just my friend.”

Kunsel nodded and returned to his book.

Zack returned his attentions to Cloud’s letter. Cloud doesn’t hate him. He _might_ think that Zack is a little crazy, which would be fair. But Cloud _was_ still writing to Zack. He didn’t report Zack to authorities. Zack could salvage this situation.

Cloud also still wants to join Soldier. He wants to be a hero.

Kunsel’s words echoed in Zack’s head. _“Heroes are chosen by the media, that’s just how it is.”_

Zack got up and sat down on his cold desk-chair. Loudly yanking open his drawer, he grabbed some paper and a pen. Zack gripped his pen tightly as he stared at the blank sheet sitting in front of him.

Cloud didn’t want to join Soldier. He didn’t want to come to the same realization Zack came to earlier that day. Cloud didn’t want to risk his life in order to become a killer for Shinra.

Zack’s own words to Cloud echoed in his head. _“Soldier is like a den of monsters, don’t go inside.”_

With that thought in mind, Zack began to write.

Cloud struggled to open his left eye. His opponent’s well aimed punch had probably given him a black eye. Cloud gingerly pressed his fingers down on the swelling area. He stopped after it hurt enough.

Cloud stopped at his front door and carefully dusted off the dirt from his clothes. Wondering if he could hide the evidence of the fight, Cloud rubbed at the rough texture of his scraped knee. All he succeeded in doing was aggravating the abrasion.

Well, it’s not like it mattered anyway. The black eye was evidence enough of Cloud’s heated temper.

With a sigh, Cloud opened the door as quietly as he could. There weren’t exactly many rooms in his house to hide in, but maybe his mother wouldn’t notice him if he just walked in _very quietly._

He managed about two steps inside when his mother looked up from her pot on the stove. The delicious aroma of soup made Cloud’s mouth water.

“Cloud?”

Hoping his mother hadn’t already seen the bruise on his face, Cloud looked away.

It was too late.

“Oh, Cloud,” his mother sighed. She reached into one of the kitchen cabinets, searching through their small supply of medicine. “Let me find you something for that.”

She sat Cloud down at the kitchen table and began applying some cold bruise cream to his eye. Cloud gripped at the bottom of his seat. Hot shame filled him.

“…Sorry.”

“It’s not me you have to apologize to,” his mother said calmly.

Indignation rose up in Cloud. “He—”

“It doesn’t matter.” His mother popped the cap of the cream back on firmly. “Strifes do not solve conflicts with their fists.”

Cloud stared at the spotless wood floor. His mother must have swept it recently. “Okay.”

“Okay.” His mother stood up and picked up an envelope from the table. “This is for you. Who’s writing to you?”

Cloud hesitated as took the letter. “A friend. He lives in Midgar.”

It wasn’t technically a lie, but his mother was probably going to assume that he was talking about one of the older boys who left for work recently.

His mother nodded and returned to the pot on the stove.

Cloud opened up the envelope, curious to see what Zack had written in his reply. Despite the weirdness of the situation, Cloud couldn’t help but to be glad that Zack had bothered to reply at all.

_Hi Cloud,_

_Yeah, don’t worry about fancy greetings. I’m not good at them either._

_About Soldier. Don’t join. It’s not what Shinra makes it out to be. You’d be happier doing something else with your life. I know I would be._

_Anyway, Tifa’s a girl, right? I bet she’d notice you if you’d just talk to her. I hear that really does wonders for relationships. I’m not really one to talk, though._

_-Zack_

Cloud let out a frustrated huff and shoved the letter back onto the table. Don’t join soldier? The idea of joining soldier when he was old enough had consumed Cloud for months now. Cloud wasn’t willing to throw away that dream.

…Was he?

And that comment about Tifa! Zack didn’t know what he was talking about. Things weren’t that simple, even if Tifa’s father hadn’t forbidden him from ever speaking to her again.

Letting his frustration drain out of him, Cloud searched for a piece of paper and pencil. It looked like he would need to set Zack straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided that Reno finding Zack at restaurants is going to be a recurring theme in this fic. Hot chocolate is Zack's comfort drink, and nobody can change my mind. 
> 
> In other news, today is my birthday. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward beginnings of therapy ensue. Zack and Aerith talk about stuff.

The next afternoon, Zack returned from the morning’s training with a sticky layer of sweat clinging to his face. That day, he and Angeal used the simulation to practice killing _fake_ Wutai soldiers as opposed to real ones.

Zack liked it better that way. Not to mention that this way, Zack wouldn’t have to worry about hurting Angeal during sparring. Whenever he needed to practice one on one, Kunsel was always happy to volunteer.

Zack beat him every time. Kunsel was learning though, so it was worth it.

Zack pushed to door open to the locker-room and walked over to the sink. Zack turned on the tab. A water came rushing down from the faucet, and Zack splashed some cold water onto his sweaty face.

He tried not to look at the mirror, but that particular endeavor proved to be impossible. It always did.

Ever since he went back in time, Zack hated mirrors. The reflective surfaces were a constant reminder of what he was. They were a constant reminder of what he _wasn’t,_ not anymore. The scar on his chin was gone. His hair was sticking up in that same childish hairstyle he used to have before Angeal died.

Zack ruefully poked the remaining baby-fat on his cheeks. He hated looking so young, so _vulnerable._ He hated this reminder that things weren’t like before, that they would _never_ be like before.

With a sigh, Zack turned off the sink and walked out of the bathroom. He had more important things to worry about.

Walking down the hall, Zack pulled out his PHS and dialed Aerith’s number. The phone vibrated in his hand as the dull ring tone echoed in his ear. Then…

“Hello?”

“Hi Aerith,” Zack said, smiling in spite of himself. He stepped into the elevator.

“Oh, hi! What’s up?”

“I just wanted to make sure that you were still open for Angeal, Genesis, Sephiroth, and I meeting you at the church. Didn’t want to arrive without you prepared or anything like that.”

“Yes, I remember. I thought _I_ might have to remind _you_ ,” Aerith said teasingly.

The idea of Zack forgetting to do one of the most important steps to saving the world was so horrifying it was almost funny. Almost.

He shuddered. “Something this important? Fat chance.”

“You’re coming ahead of time, right?”

Zack nodded. “I’m on my way.” The elevator doors opened, and Zack walked out of the lobby of the Shinra building. The cold October wind greeted him.

“Alright, see you soon!”

Zack appreciated the way Aerith ended their phone calls. She never said goodbye. She always said something along the lines of ‘I’ll see you later.’ Zack was glad he didn’t have to feel that sinking feeling of dread that came with saying goodbye. That sinking feeling that he wouldn’t see this person ever again.

Zack nodded again. “Right, see you.” He snapped his PHS shut and shoved it back into his pocket.

It took about thirty minutes for Zack to reach the Sector five slums. Rushing around the muttering residents, he reached the church in another two.

Aerith was crouched on the ground, arranging her flowers into one of her new woven baskets. The arrangement looked nice, as far as Zack could tell. Not that he was an expert on these things or anything.

“Hey,” Zack said as he approached, squatting down next to her.

Aerith glanced over at Zack and smiled brightly. “Hi!”

Zack glanced once more at the flowers. “So, you’re taking my advice and selling the flowers?”

Aerith nodded, pushing herself into a standing position. “If they’ll make other people happy, I think I will.”

Zack recalled the success of her flower business the first time around. His chest ached at the memory. It was strange, doing things twice.

“They will,” Zack promised her.

“Then I’ll do it,” she said resolutely. She glanced at her flower basket. “I was going to do it anyway, but now I feel even more certain.”

“You can buy something nice for yourself with the money too,” Zack said. He thought for a moment. “Is your birthday coming up?”

Aerith giggled. “Yeah, in February.”

Zack had distinct flashback of glancing at his calendar and realizing in a panic that it was Aerith’s birthday. He had practically _flown_ to the store to buy her a present.

Zack’s face went hot. “Sorry, that’s my bad.”

Aerith shook her head. “That’s alright.”

Oh yeah. Even though Aerith _knew_ Zack had known her for years, she obviously still didn’t expect Zack to know everything. She simply didn’t have the same history with him.

Then again, in his past life, Aerith had never been too upset with Zack when he was forgetful. At worst, she became fondly exasperated.

Before Zack could say anything more on the subject, the church doors opened loudly. Zack glanced up to see Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth entering the church. A large, black trench-coat covered Sephiroth’s iconic clothing. Genesis and Angeal looked the same as ever.

While Sephiroth and Genesis looked around, Angeal approached them and crouched in front of Aerith’s flowers.

“Flowers in Midgar?” he asked, looking up at Aerith with admiration, “I didn’t think it was possible.”

“It’s not,” Aerith said brightly, “This is the only place they’ll grow. Well, they grow at my house too.”

“How do you do it?” Angeal asked, “I’ve tried growing flowers before, but it’s never worked.”

Aerith laughed and began explaining her process for curating her flowers. It seemed pretty basic to Zack, but maybe Aerith would explain something more complicated later in the conversation.

However, Zack would never find out because Genesis approached him half-way through Aerith’s explanation of watering.

“What is the purpose of this meeting?” Genesis asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We can’t just do something for fun?” Zack asked defensively.

“You’re hardly one to come up with social outings.” Genesis rolled his eyes. “As far as I can determine, you are perfectly content with only seeing your friends and collegues in the workplace.”

Zack shrugged. “Well, maybe I’m turning over a new leaf,” he said, “Or maybe I wanted you guys to spend some quality time with me _and_ Aerith. Is that so wrong?”

Genesis glanced at Aerith, who was still talking animatedly about the flowers that were at her house. Zack in turn glanced over at Sephiorth, who had said nothing this entire time. Still, he was studying Zack very strangely.

Zack ignored the prickling sensation down his spine and returned his attention to Genesis.

“I suppose it isn’t,” Genesis conceded, “Your friend certainly is fascinating. While I couldn’t care less, flowers in Midgar are a rather unheard-of commodity. I imagine that it would make for a very interesting story. Your friend being the protagonist, gifted by the goddess to create life in even the bleakest of places.”

Zack laughed. Genesis wasn’t completely off, since Aerith was an ancient. Though, Zack wasn’t entirely sure what Aerith’s abilities entailed. It might just be a coincidence that she had such a green thumb.

Sephiroth still hadn’t said anything. Unable to stand the man’s silence, Zack turned to him. “Did you have any trouble getting here?” he asked, gesturing at Sephiroth’s trench-coat.

Sephiroth shrugged. “Only a bit.” His lips perked up. “Genesis had to stop for every fan.”

“Well of course I did,” Genesis said reproachfully, “It would be ungrateful not to.”

Aerith and Angeal neared the three of them. “Do you enjoy fame?” Aerith asked Genesis, “I’m not sure how I would feel about being stopped on the streets every time I went somewhere.”

“I suppose I enjoy being recognized.” Genesis pulled a small, leather bound book out of an inner pocket of his jacket. “I keep this on hand for autographs.”

“Why?”

Genesis shrugged and put the book back into his pocket. “You won’t believe how many fans ask for an autograph without actually bringing something for me to write on. Or something to write _with,_ for that matter.”

Aerith shook her head. “Sorry, let me rephrase that. Why do you enjoy being recognized?”

Genesis flourished his hand at nothing in particular. “There is no hate, only joy, for you are beloved by the goddess. Healer of dawn, healer of worlds.”

Yeah, that didn’t exactly answer her question. At all. Would it kill Genesis to come out and say the truth? Zack glanced over at Aerith, who only smiled with a small nod.

“Loveless, Act II,” she said.

“You know it?” Genesis smiled, looking impressed.

“We saw the production a week ago,” Aerith informed Genesis, “I’m not going to forget so quickly.” Genesis laughed, and Aerith turned to the others. “What about you guys? Do you enjoy fame?”

To be honest, Zack had hardly noticed it. Scratching the back of his neck, he opened his mouth to answer. Then he stopped. He wasn’t famous yet. Aerith’s question wasn’t directed toward him, but to Sephiroth and Angeal. Zack shut his mouth as Angeal replied.

“I’m glad to be seen for my accomplishments, but I don’t exactly seek out recognition.” Angeal grabbed the hilt of his Buster sword, but he didn’t take it off his back. “I care more about my honor and pride.”

“As Soldier?” Zack prompted, recalling Angeal’s favorite saying.

Angeal stared Zack dead in the eyes. “As a person.”

Maybe it was the way Angeal said it. Maybe it was how much it resonated with Zack. But regardless, at the words, Zack felt a strange swooping sensation run down his body.

Honor and pride. Not just as Soldier, but as a person.

Zack wasn’t sure why if felt so profound. As a matter of fact, Zack had no doubt that Angeal had probably said the same thing to him before.

Maybe it was Zack’s new perspective. Maybe Angeal hadn’t changed, but _Zack_ had. It seemed pretty obvious, but Zack somehow kept forgetting it easily.

It was like staring in the mirror. Zack’s change wasn’t only outer; it was inner too.

Unaware of Zack’s internal musings, Aerith turned to Sephiroth. “I’m guessing you don’t enjoy being noticed?”

“You would be correct,” Sephiroth said, casually stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.

There was a tense silence for a few moments. Unsure of what to do with himself, Zack tapped his fingers on the side of his pants. Should he say something? What would he say?

Zack thought he might burst when Aerith’s soft sigh broke through awkwardness.

“I think it’s best that we be honest,” she said, glancing at Zack apologetically. Zack felt his heartrate spike. Was she going to tell them everything? “We’re…worried about you guys.”

Zack barely stopped himself from sighing loudly in relief. His heart still feeling like it was about to beat out of his chest, Zack sagged slightly where he stood. Aerith didn’t betray his trust. She wouldn’t do that. He should have never doubted her.

Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal were giving each other confused looks. Still, they returned their attentions to Aerith. She flushed red. Unable to see her looking so uncomfortable, Zack decided to take the reins.

He struggled to think of the right words to say. “I just think that maybe…how do I phrase this…I think your friendship is suffering because of…competition? The program? You don’t communicate?” Zack made an overarching gesture at the three of them.

Angeal was wearing a thoughtful expression, his hand resting on his chin. Genesis looked flabbergasted, and his mouth hung half open. Sephiroth was wearing a small frown.

None of them refuted Zack’s claims.

Glad to be making some form of progress, Zack figured he might want to assuage some of Genesis’s obvious concerns. Raising his arms defensively, he said “I don’t want to be nosy or anything like that! But, I think it would be better in the long run to encourage communication in case something…happens.”

Feeling too vague to be convincing, Zack let his hands rest lamely at his sides. He felt like a hypocrite. Here he was, telling everyone to communicate when he himself refused to tell his friends his greatest secret.

It would be easier if Zack just told everyone what happened, but he couldn’t. The risk of ruining everything was too great. What if they didn’t believe him? What if Zack’s recounting of events caused them to turn on each other? That was the exact opposite of what Zack was hoping for.

Angeal cleared his throat in Genesis’s direction, and Genesis closed his mouth and straightened up. Sephiroth was as silent as ever. Angeal turned to Zack.

“Alright,” Angeal said seriously, “If you think this is a serious problem, we should work to fix it.” He clapped Zack on the shoulder. Zack _didn’t_ lean into the touch. “I’m proud of you.”

Zack felt uncomfortably warm in his uniform. He looked up at Angeal, who was beaming. “Why?”

“You told us about your concerns,” Angeal said, “That takes a lot of courage.”

Zack didn’t feel courageous. He felt like a coward. Brave people told the truth about what was going on. Brave people didn’t hide behind their younger mask, pretending that nothing at all was wrong.

Zack wasn’t a brave person.

Aerith directed the group to sit down in a circle. The room echoed with shuffling sounds as everyone lowered themselves onto the cold, stone floor.

“For today, I think we should start with a game,” Aerith said, “I know that it might seem childish, but I think it will be a good way to encourage honesty.”

Sephiroth smiled, inclining his head toward her. “You’re the boss.”

Aerith smiled and straightened up. “Alright, today, we’re going to play two truths and a lie. Have you played it before?”

Everyone nodded. Zack would honestly find it offensive if someone in their group _hadn’t_ played it before. It was a classic.

“Okay,” Aerith said, “I’ll go first. Um…I’m adopted, my birthday is in March, and I love flowers.”

Well, Zack knew Aerith was adopted. She had to be if she were the last living Ancient. And Aerith had literally just told him that her birthday was in February. Was this a test? Was she seeing how well he could remember things? Well, there was no doubt about the flowers at any rate.

Aerith looked over at Angeal first. “Which one was the lie?”

“Adopted?” Angeal offered, shrugging

Aerith turned to Sephiroth.

“Adopted,” Sephiroth said, sounding indifferent to his uncertainty.

“March birthday,” Genesis said, leaning back smugly.

Zack tried not to stare at him. He failed. How did he know? Was it just a lucky guess? Maybe Genesis thought that Aerith being adopted would be a more interesting truth. Zack certainly wouldn’t put it past him.

Finally, Aerith turned to Zack.

“March birthday,” Zack affirmed.

“Yep!” Aerith turned to Genesis, “Okay, now it’s your turn.”

On the whole, the game was fairly unilluminating. Zack understood where Aerith was coming from, though. There was no point in overwhelming them with serious questions about jealousy and desertion. She had already given them a taste of those serious questions earlier.

Before leaving, the five of them agreed to meet at the same time the next week.

“I’ll see you back at the tower.” Angeal gave Zack a light slap on the back before turned to leave. “Take care of yourself.”

Zack nodded, trying to ignore the warm sensation where he felt Angeal’s slap. “See you.”

Zack waited for the doors to shut loudly before turning to Aerith.

“That went pretty well,” he said, placing his hands on his hips, “If we can keep this up, they’ll be as thick as thieves.”

What did that comparison even mean anyway? Weren’t thieves unreliable?

Aerith nodded, still staring at the closed doors. “Earlier…did you say that the scientists at Shinra planted Jenova cells in them?”

The sun was still shining brightly on the flowers, but Zack felt as though a dark cloud had settled in the room. He sat down on one of the hard church pews.

“Yeah,” he said, “Why?”

Aerith shook her head and sat down next to him. “I’m an Ancient, so I hear—I don’t know how to describe it—whispers, I guess? Whispers from the Cetra, or other Ancients, I think.”

Zack had never heard anything about this before. It never occurred to him to learn more about Aerith’s abilities. He listened silently, eager to hear more.

“Anyway.” Aerith fidgeted slightly. “It’s how I knew you weren’t lying. The whispers felt…familiar with you, sort of.”

Zack remembered what Aerith said on their first meeting in this life. “ _You feel…touched by the lifestream.”_

Feeling the need to contribute to the conversation, Zack said, “Oh.”

He wasn’t very good at contributing to these sorts of conversations.

Aerith looked upward, as if these intangible whispers could be seen. “They seemed really upset around your friends. I think it might have to do with Jenova.”

Zack wasn’t really sure what to make of it. This unfamiliar…magic? Could it even be called that? This unfamiliar _ability_ of Aerith’s felt way out of Zack’s league.

“Well…do they know anything about her?”

Sephiorth had originally thought Jenova to be an ancient, but there was no way that could possibly be true. Right?

Aerith shut her eyes tightly. “…Calamity,” she said with a shudder.

_You should have ruled this planet. You were stronger, smarter._

The memory of Sephiorth’s words hit Zack suddenly with no preparation. It was his turn to shudder. He prayed that would never happen in this life. No. He would make sure that it would never happen.

“Don’t worry about it,” Zack said resolutely, “So what if they have some cells from some evil being? As long as we stay _away_ from her, it should be fine, right?”

Aerith’s lips were still pressed together, but she nodded anyway. “Right…”

Zack couldn’t say that he didn’t relate on some level. As much as he _said_ he wasn’t afraid of Jenova, she was pretty much the second catalyst of Zack’s horrible life. Things were just starting to go well when she went ahead and made Sephiroth go crazy.

Then again, Genesis hadn’t helped either when he told Sephiroth that he was a monster. To this day, Zack didn’t understand it. Why would Genesis say those horrible things to Sephiroth? Weren’t they once friends?

It didn’t matter. It would never happen. Not this time.

“Besides, it’s not their faults that Hollander and Hojo thought it would be a good idea to experiment with babies,” Zack said firmly.

“I never said it was.” Aerith shook her head and clapped her hands tightly together. “How could I? I used to live in the Shinra labs.”

It took a moment for the words to register, but when they did, Zack felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped over him. He stared at Aerith in shock, not daring to breathe. Lived in the labs? Aerith?

“When?” he asked, barely hearing his own voice.

Aerith shrugged, looking away. “I got away when I was seven. Don’t worry, they never did anything to me.”

Don’t worry? _Don’t worry?_ How could she say that immediately after saying that she lived in the labs until she was seven? The labs were _horrible,_ and that was an _understatement_.

Maybe the labs in Midgar weren’t like the one Zack lived in for four years in Nibelheim. Maybe they were nicer, more humane.

Who was Zack kidding? Hojo ran those labs. They couldn’t possibly be safe for the test-subjects. They certainly weren’t for _children._

Zack willed himself to breathe. Aerith was fine. She was sitting right next to him, completely whole. They never did anything to her; she said so herself.

Zack shouldn’t pry. He _wouldn’t_ pry. Aerith was clearly uncomfortable talking about this subject. He was going to drop it and say nothing else. He wasn’t going to ask her how she possibly escaped. He wasn’t going to ask if anyone had ever tried to take her back to that horrible place.

The Turks were watching Aerith, though. When Cissnei had first told him about Aerith being an Ancient, Zack assumed that the Turks were keeping an eye on her because they didn’t want anything to happen her. Of course, Zack always had a small fear that Hojo would one day want Aerith and have the means to take her, but he never _dreamt_ that Aerith was once in his custody.

Zack could taste bile. His thoughts were getting too confused, and he still hadn’t replied to Aerith.

He desperately wanted to know more, but Zack did his best to hide his curiosity. He was trying to be a better friend. That meant keeping his questions to himself.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said.

Aerith shrugged. “It’s okay.”

It really wasn’t.

“Let me make it up to you,” Zack insisted, feeling a protective urge rise up in him. He couldn’t let anything happen to Aerith. She didn’t deserve that. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

Aerith smiled but shook her head. “I’ll be okay. I have been all these years.”

Zack flushed, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret the offer. He would have to find some other way to stop Aerith from being brought back to Hojo. Sure, the Turks weren’t trying _now,_ but Hojo was impulsive. He could decide at any time that he wanted to study an Ancient. Zack _couldn’t_ let that happen.

Could he spy on Shinra’s channels? It was worth a shot, right?

Maybe Reno would be willing to help. Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some liberties with Aerith's connection to the Cetra. I tried to draw on the Remake, but it's not _super_ clear unless I just missed something.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zack seeks out Reno. Kunsel seeks out Zack.

_Are you crazy? Everyone wants to become a Soldier. Why shouldn’t I join? I want to be strong and Soldier seems to be the easiest way to achieve that._

_Also, talk to Tifa? Are you crazy? Things are so much more complicated than that. I can’t just talk to her! Everybody hates me!_

_Besides, its easy for you to say, I bet girls are lining up for you since you’re in Soldier._

_-Cloud_

_P.S. Have you met Sephiroth? What’s he like?_

It had taken longer than Zack had hoped to arrange a meeting with Reno. Considering how easy it was to _accidently_ run into the young Turk, it was downright infuriating to actually try to track him down.

Each day, the unknown possibility of Aerith being forced to return to the labs made Zack sick with anxiety. The sooner he could keep track of Shinra’s movements, the sooner Zack could have peace of mind.

Well, _relative_ peace of mind at any rate. There wasn’t a single night that Zack didn’t wake up from some nightmare or another.

In the end, it had taken three weeks to find Reno. It turned out that he had been out on missions for most of the duration, and the rest of the time had been bad luck on Zack’s part.

Now, they were sitting inside a crowded restaurant. Zack could hardly hear over the chatter. A board game sat on the table, so Zack and Reno found themselves organizing black and white tiles while waiting for their food.

“I need access to classified channels,” Zack said almost as soon as they sat down.

Reno stared. “You’re kidding, right?”

Zack wasn’t surprised by Reno’s initial response to his request, if not a little disappointed. He placed down a black piece on the board.

“Nope.”

“I can’t just give you access to classified information!” Reno exclaimed, placing down a white piece on the opposite side of the board, “Are you crazy?”

Once again, Zack really should have expected this response. Even in his past life, Zack’s relationship with Reno had never extended past ‘friendly coworkers’ at best. In this timeline, Zack had technically only met Reno three times.

Actually, all things considered, Reno was taking the request quite well.

That didn’t mean that Zack wasn’t currently feeling an increasingly worse sinking feeling of disappointment. Never one to shirk on expressing his emotions, Zack let out a groan.

“Why not?”

The answer was pretty obvious. Reno was probably thinking the same thing as he let out a huff that sounded suspiciously like a groan of his own.

“Do you even know the definition of _classified?”_ Reno asked.

Of course, Zack knew. He was mentally twenty-three and physically fifteen, not three. Rolling his eyes, Zack placed down another black piece.

“Yes, which is why I need your help to actually access it.”

Reno waved his hands in the air violently, nearly sending his pieces flying. “One of the most important things about being a Turk is protecting the company’s secrets!” Reno let out a sigh and sagged slightly. He placed his own piece of the board. “You know Tseng? He got in big trouble for prioritizing another life over secrets, you know?"

That tracked with Zack’s previous experience with the Turks. He would never forget the airstrike on Angeal’s hometown. Or the immaculate replacement for Nibelheim. _All evidence of misconduct must be erased._

Zack used to accept that sort of thing as life. Now, it was getting harder to swallow every day.

“You really care about being a Turk that much?” he asked Reno seriously.

Reno opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, their waiter approached them with their food. Zack quickly cleared away their half-played board game before taking his sandwich.

Reno waited for the waiter to be out of hearing range before replying.

“I care about keeping my job!”

Sometimes, Zack wished he could read minds. Even _he_ could see that Reno didn’t directly answer his question. Then again, Zack wasn’t really one to talk. All he had done lately was dodge questions.

Zack was going to need to rethink his strategy. He took a bite of his sandwich, his teeth closing in on the lettuce with a satisfying crunch. What could he say to Reno in order to convince him to help? Apparently not a lot. Maybe he could appeal to sympathy? Come to think of it, Zack probably should’ve tried taking that sort of small step since the beginning. He was never really one for social skills.

Zack took his time to swallow before formulating a response. “Listen,” he said, placing his sandwich back down on his plate, “Remember my friend? The one who gave me the band-aids?”

Reno nodded, eyeing Zack warily as he took a bite of his salad. “Yes…?”

“There’s a risk of Hojo wanting her,” Zack said vaguely. He didn’t want to spill all of Aerith’s secrets. Although, as a Turk, Reno probably knew them anyway. “I just want to make sure that I’m ready if she’s ever dragged to him.”

Reno winced and leaned back. He didn’t look Zack in the eyes. “Yo, I sympathize. I really do, but the answer is still ‘no way.’”

Frustration bubbled up inside of Zack, and he willed himself not to lash out. Zack had a harder time controlling his tongue in fits of emotion, and he really didn’t want to say anything he would regret.

Instead, Zack tapped his fingers rapidly against the wooden table. The small sound was barely audible over the din of the restaurant.

“There’s nothing I can say that will convince you?”

Reno shook his head, looking less frenzied than before. “You could hold me at gunpoint, and I wouldn’t be able to give you access with a clear conscience, you know?”

Actually, Zack did. Before Angeal died, Zack would’ve probably said the same. Pride as Soldier and all that jazz. But pride wasn’t worth lives or livelihoods, two things Hojo took a sick pleasure in robbing.

Zack shuddered, willing away the memory of drowning in a mako tank.

“Fine.” Knowing when to admit surrender, Zack picked up his sandwich and continued eating.

Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to him.

“Are you going to tell anyone about this?”

Reno shrugged. “I won’t,” he said, “But only if you answer one question for me.”

Relief washed over Zack, and he replied without thinking. “Great! What is it?.”

It was only until five seconds later that Zack realized how stupid that answer was. What if Reno asked him something about his time traveling? The idea made him uneasy, but if it came down to it, Zack could always lie.

Zack couldn’t lie to save his life.

Reno clapped his hands together and leaned in close. Zack held his breath. “What the heck was with that letter to that Strife kid?”

Zack blinked. “What?”

Reno leaned back. “The Strife kid? You’ve been writing letters to him? He’s been writing back? Remember?”

Oh. Oh crap. Horror steadily mounted in Zack, and he wiped his sweaty palms against his pants.

“You _read_ those?” he asked.

Reno shrugged, crossing his arms. “Not personally, but there are people who read Soldier’s mail. What did you expect?”

Once again, Zack shouldn’t have expected anything less from Shinra, but he felt extremely exposed knowing that people opened his letters and read them. Strangers had read his letters to his parents. What if he had written the entire truth? What would have happened?

And to make matters worse, apart from the overall creepiness of the first letter to Cloud, Zack had written some pretty traitorous things in the interim. There was no possible way Shinra was okay with him actively telling a potential recruit not to apply for Solider.

Zack let out a groan that summed up all his feelings nicely.

“I know you’re a good kid,” Reno said, “Which is why I don’t want to report you for asking to literally have access to classified information. I just want to know why you wrote the creepiest letter on the face of this earth.”

Zack bit back another groan resisted the urge to hide his face in his hands. Now, he needed to figure out how to appropriately answer without telling the full truth.

“He’s an old friend of mine.” Technically true. “But he doesn’t remember me now. I woke up in the middle of the night and thought it would be a fantastic idea to write to him.”

Reno gaped at him. “You couldn’t have included that part instead of coming off as a complete stalker? How could he have possibly forgotten you anyway?”  
“I don’t know, it’s complicated! I wasn’t thinking straight!” Zack rubbed his temple. To be honest, he wasn’t sure if he was ever thinking straight these days.

Reno nodded, still looking unimpressed, and took another bite of his salad. “Uh huh,” he said with his mouth full, “Say I believe you. Why didn’t you write a letter the next morning apologizing and explaining your creepiness?”

That…that had never actually occurred to Zack. Now that Reno told him, it seemed like the obvious solution, but at the time…

 _Damnit,_ Zack could be such an idiot sometimes.

“That never occurred to me,” Zack said slowly, not looking Reno in the eye, “if you’ll believe it.”

To be fair, Zack did have a near panic attack that day.

“Yo, I do believe it. You—” Reno pointed his fork at Zack passionately. Zack flinched. “—need to learn better social skills.”

Zack was coming to realize that himself with each passing day. He swallowed. “Yeah, I’ll work on that.”

Reno nodded and returned to his salad calmly. “Also, I would be more careful about what you write if I were you. You’re drawing attention to yourself, telling kids not to apply to Soldier like that.”

Zack figured. Honestly, Zack was glad he got off so easy. Still, he couldn’t exactly drop that specific subject with Cloud. The last thing Zack wanted was for Cloud to come marching into Midgar like a lamb to the slaughter.

Zack was going to have to find another way to deliver his mail away from prying eyes. Fun.

Disappointment hung over Zack like the dark clouds that hung over Midgar as he walked back into the evening streets. Reno wasn’t going to help him. Honestly, a small part of him had been expecting that response. But still, Reno was Zack’s best chance of being able to spy on Shinra, and now what did he have?

“You have a nice talk?”

Zack’s heart hiccupped, and he spun around, reaching for his sword…only to see Kunsel leaning against the wall of the restaurant he just exited.

Zack rubbed his chest, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.

“What the heck, man? You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Zack hissed.

Kunsel raised his arms up in surrender. “Sorry,” he said, “That was unintentional, I promise.”

Zack believed it. That didn’t mean he didn’t need answers. “What are you doing here?”

Kunsel sighed and began walking down the street. Zack rushed to follow him, weaving around late-night shoppers.

“I’ve been following you,” Kunsel said after Zack caught up with him.

“What? Why?”

Zack tried to steady his thoughts. Kunsel’s been following him? When? How did Zack not notice him? Does Kunsel want to tell him something important? Does Kunsel suspect?

Zack clenched his fists tightly, probably enough to draw blood if he weren’t wearing his gloves. Thunder clapped loudly. He waited for Kunsel to reply.

“You’ve been acting weird lately.” They stopped at a crosswalk. Cars zipped by loudly. “It’s not a one-off thing, either. You’ve been acting weird since October. It’s been a month.”

Zack understood that. He wasn’t sure he understood the rest. As they crossed the crosswalk, Zack formulated an indignant reply. “So you decide to follow me? Doesn’t that seem extreme?”

They stepped back onto the sidewalk, and Kunsel reached into his pocket to pull out his PHS. After flipping it open, he handed it to Zack.

Zack looked down at the small screen, illuminated in the night. A small list of emails filled the screen. They were replies, _Zack’s_ replies, to all of Kunsel’s emails to him from the past month. They were all short—Zack didn’t have much patience for typing on the phone—and there were probably about ten of them in all.

“You followed me because I started replying to your emails?” Zack glanced up from the phone and quickly dodged a lamppost he nearly rammed into.

Kunsel took the phone from Zack and snapped it shut. “Until a month ago, you _never_ replied to my emails.”

Part of Zack was hurt by that statement. The rest of him knew it was true. Zack hadn’t replied to Kunsel, or _anyone_ for that matter, before a month ago. For some reason, Zack had never seen the need to reply. He had always figured that there was no appropriate response, or that he would see them soon. Both he and Kunsel knew it.

Now, Zack knew better. Dying had a habit of shedding light on uncomfortable truths. Zack knew he had to try harder. He had to form stronger bonds. He had to put an effort into his relationships.

But Kunsel didn’t know Zack died. Kunsel didn’t know the cause of Zack’s awakening. If Zack were being honest with himself, he probably would have followed his friend around too if _he_ noticed them acting really strangely.

“If it were just that—” Kunsel looked up at the sky. A moment later, Zack felt a small drop of rain his face. “--I’d probably have let it go.”

“Well, what else was there?” Zack asked.

Kunsel stopped suddenly, and Zack skidded to a halt. The rain was starting to come down harder, soaking Zack’s uniform. Kunsel stared at Zack, frowning.

“Zack, we sleep in the same room.” Lightning lit up the night sky as realization slowly began to dawn on Zack. “You have nightmares every night.”

Thunder cracked loudly, and the rain became a pour. Inhaling deeply, Zack tried not to remember the agonizing pain with each breath, tried not to remember Cloud’s face in the pouring rain, the water mixing with his blood…

“Zack?” Zack blinked. Cloud wasn’t there. Instead, Kunsel was standing close to him. “Zack, I want to help. How can I help?”

The words ‘I’m okay’ were on the tip of Zack’s tongue before he properly realized what Kunsel just said. Kunsel never asked if Zack was okay. He asked _what he could do to help_.

“Inside,” Zack said quickly, “The rain—”

“Okay.” Kunsel reached out a hand before pulling it back. “Follow me.”

Pushing past pedestrians, Zack followed Kunsel, who pulled open the door to the nearest building.

They stepped into a small, brightly lit drug store. Zack blinked a rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the light. Compared to the evening streets of Midgar, the store was quiet. _Too_ quiet. Zack’s ragged breathing seemed louder than it should’ve been.

“Eat this.” Kunsel carefully pressed a small mint into Zack’s hand, and Zack immediately popped it into his mouth. The strong, minty flavor rammed him back into the present with the force of a truck.

Now back to full awareness, Zack tried his best to give Kunsel a grateful look. He hoped it didn’t look too pained.

Kunsel was holding a box of mints that was ripped open so poorly that it looked like a bandersnatch ripped it open with its teeth.

Zack glanced over to the counter. The cashier was nowhere in sight.

“Thanks,” Zack said, “Lucky you had that gum.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Kunsel said grimly. He handed the mutilated cardboard box to Zack. “You hold onto it. I’ll pay for it in a minute.”

…Right, they were in a drug store. A shelf full of different packs of gum stood next to Kunsel.

“Oh.”

Zack shoved the pack of gum into his pocket. It jostled next to Aerith’s band-aids.

Kunsel sighed. “Listen, I’m sorry for following you. It’s just that I know that there’s more going on than meets the eye. I know Angeal and the others are fine with just your meetings on Saturday, but I want to help you, and you weren’t giving me enough to work with.”

Zack _had_ been blowing off any attempt on Kunsel’s part in trying to figure out what was wrong. He chewed his gum thoughtfully.

“Sorry,” he said lamely.

Kunsel shook his head and sagged, running his fingers through his hair. “No, don’t apologize.” He suddenly straightened. “I understand if you don’t want to tell me everything, but if there’s _anything_ , anything at all, that I can do, I’ll do it. I don’t care how crazy it is.”

Despite his soaking wet clothes, Zack felt warmth spread through him. Still, there was one pulsing question pressing against the edges of his mind.

“Why?”

Kunsel’s expression looked so pained that Zack almost regretted asking. “You’re my friend,” he said quietly, “I can’t imagine what it’s like for you, but you sound like you’re _dying,_ Zack. Almost every night.”

Kunsel’s right. He couldn’t imagine. He couldn’t imagine the adrenaline suddenly crashing down into agonizing pain. Kunsel couldn’t imagine the initial panic, denial, frustration, bargaining, and depression before acceptance sets in and you give your friend your mentor’s sword with final words about legacies.

Kunsel could never imagine taking that last, excruciating breath with the expectation of peace, only to find yourself being pulled out from a pile of rubble by your dead mentor.

Kunsel would _never_ be able to imagine that.

For reasons that Zack would never be able to explain, frustration overwhelmed him, and when he spoke, his voice was harder than it had been in a long time.

“I don’t need your help.”

Kunsel didn’t say anything, but he looked disappointed. Zack felt an urge to explain.

“You don’t want anything to do with me,” Zack said more forcefully than usual, “I’m not worth it.”

“Not worth what?” Kunsel asked, infuriatingly calm.

Zack didn’t mean for his voice to rise in volume, but it did anyway. “Dying! You don’t know what it feels like! You don’t know what you’re getting into, asking to help me!”

Cloud ended up in a lab because of _Zack’s_ mistakes, because of _Zack’s_ inattention to Sephiroth’s decline. He couldn’t have Kunsel on his conscience too.

“Then tell me.” A pleading edge crept into Kunsel’s voice now. “I’m here for you.”

Zack’s frustration left as quickly as it came. His fist was clenched around something. Zack pulled it out of his pocket and unclosed it. The box of gum was lying on his palm, even more destroyed looking than before. Guilt overwhelmed him, and he tried to bend to box back to its original shape before giving up and returning it to his pocket.

“Sorry,” Zack said. He sighed. “And there _is_ something you can help me with.”

Kunsel smiled slightly, but atmosphere in the small store was still heavy. “Yeah? What is it?”

Zack quickly explained his need to access Shinra’s classified channels. Kunsel’s face grew more and more shocked at each word, but he never interrupted. When Zack finally finished, there was a small silence. Kunsel went to reply—

And Zack’s PHS began ringing loudly. Zack quickly grabbed his buzzing phone and took the call.

“Hello?”

“I’ve sent you the access codes to all classified files,” a very obviously masked voice replied.

Suspicion churned in Zack’s gut, and he glanced at Kunsel. Kunsel shook his head decisively.

“Who are you?” Zack asked, deciding he’d better do things properly.

“A sympathizer.”

A loud beep. The mystery man had hung up on him. Zack quickly went to his emails on his phone. Sure enough, an unidentified contact had sent him an email with the subject “Codes.”

“Would you look at that,” Zack said in a mild state of shock.

“You’re seriously going to listen to that guy?” Kunsel asked, shock evident on his features. Zack couldn’t exactly blame him. This was the shadiest thing that had happened all month.

“Well…maybe,” Zack said slowly, “With optimistic caution.”

“What if it’s a trap?” Kunsel crossed his arms.

Zack put his phone back into his pocket. “That’s why we’ll proceed with caution,” he said, “Besides, this is the best lead I’ve had all day.”

Kunsel rubbed his eyes, looking exhausted. “Well, I did say I would help you, no matter how crazy it is.”

“You sure you want to do this?” Zack asked.

Kunsel smiled. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suspicious sources are suspicious. Sneaking around Shinra is sneaky. Descriptive summaries are descriptive.

_Hey, Cloud. Sorry it took so long for me to write you back, I had to figure out a different way to send my mail. My friend helped me._

_I do know Sephiroth. He’s a pretty cool dude. He’s pretty reserved, but don’t let that fool you. I swear his eyes were glistening when we saw the Loveless that one time._

_Listen Cloud, Shinra doesn’t care about you. It hurts, but it’s true. You don’t want to become a killer in a war you hardly know anything about just because you wanted to be a hero. It’s not worth it. Especially when Shinra is more than willing to cast you aside._

_Why can’t you talk to Tifa? Maybe it will make you feel better if you wrote it all down._

_-Zack_

Zack walked down the hallways of the Shinra building, his footsteps echoing loudly with each step he took. Even though it was the dead of night, the lights were still on, and Zack couldn’t help but to feel overexposed as he walked toward his destination.

Their mysterious—and increasingly more suspicious—helper had sent Zack another email entailing exactly how to get into the room with Shinra’s highly sensitive computers, including the time the janitors weren’t around, the code to get into the room, and more.

Speaking of janitors, Kunsel had stolen a janitor’s uniform for Zack to wear.

“Contrary to popular belief, people _do_ look at security cameras,” Kunsel had said. He also shoved a hat in Zack’s direction. “Wear this too; it will hide your spiky hair.”

Said hat was now pressed oppressively on Zack’s head. There was a reason Zack never wore helmets. They were too restraining.

To complete the look, Zack had gotten a cart full of cleaning supplies, and was now pushing it forward. It rattled along even more loudly than Zack’s footsteps.

Just an innocent janitor, going to innocently tidy up a room full of company computers. He definitely wasn’t a Soldier from the future with plans to download a virus into highly sensitive company computers.

He reached the room, and went to pull out his phone so that he could recall what the access code was again. He was pretty sure he knew what it was, but Zack didn’t want to accidently type in the wrong four digits.

Suddenly, a new set of footsteps rang in Zack’s ears. Zack recalled what Kunsel told him earlier.

_“If someone sees you, don’t run away or hide. That will make it obvious that you’re up to no good.”_

Zack forced himself to stay calm. Taking deep breaths, he flipped his PHS open and found the email filled with passwords, security clearance codes, etc.

Zack had memorized most of the security clearance codes. According to Kunsel, it was good to have that on hand in case Zack was confronted by someone.

The footsteps stopped. A man in a business suit was standing next to Zack, giving him a reproving glare. He must’ve been working later into the night.

“Excuse me,” the man said, “But this is a restricted area. Do you have clearance?”

Oh boy, he was definitely a higher up. Zack willed himself not to panic, even though his heart was thumping loudly. He memorized this. He practiced this.

“Yes,” he said, “I’ve been tasked with cleaning…things. The clearance code is ah…” Think, it was just one word. Zack knew this. It was a word that seemed super obvious.

Just as the man was beginning to cross his arms, Zack remembered.

“Jenova!” he exclaimed victoriously. The man raised his eyebrows in alarm, and Zack forced himself to look calm. “The clearance code is Jenova.”

The man nodded. “Very well.” He began walking past Zack before stopping again. “Next time, I would try to remember the code a little sooner, or you might seem suspicious.”

Zack forced out a laugh. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

The man continued walking, and soon his footsteps faded into nothingness. Zack let out a small sigh of relief and glanced back down at the PHS. He punched in the password. The door swished open.

Zack stepped into the room, trying not to feel too sick to his stomach as he approached the designated computer. He pulled a small USB-drive out of his pocket. Plugged it in. Waited.

According to the mystery phone man, it would take approximately five minutes for the program to load. That meant that Zack had to pretend to clean a room for five minutes in case anybody happened to walk in. He grabbed a broom and began sweeping the floor.

Zack wasn’t sure how well he did. It didn’t matter. Five minutes passed. Actually, it might have been more than five minutes; Zack wasn’t very good at keeping track of time. Regardless, the program was loaded, and Zack quickly yanked the drive out of the computer.

The trip back to the janitor’s closet was uneventful, and Zack returned the cart to its rightful place. The trip back to Zack’s bedroom was equally uneventful.

Kunsel was waiting for him and stopped mid-pace when Zack opened the door.

“You made it,” Kunsel said. Even Zack could see that relief was written all over his face.

Zack flopped onto his bed, messaging his chest. His heart still felt like it was trying to see how fast it could pump blood before it exploded.

“If you were so worried, why didn’t you do it?” Zack asked.

“I wanted to, remember?” Kunsel said, flopping down on his own bed, “But you _insisted_ on being the one to do it so that I wouldn’t be ‘endangered.’”

That was very true. Zack didn’t regret it.

“If anything happens, I don’t want you to get caught up in it,” Zack said, “Can you blame me?”

Kunsel sighed. “I guess not. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Fair enough. Oh well, Kunsel would have plenty to do tomorrow.

The next day, Zack and Kunsel found themselves a seat inside a crowded coffee shop. Just as in Zack’s conversation with Reno, nobody would be overhearing any suspicious affairs that Zack and Kunsel were about to participate in.

And they were participating in _suspicious_ affairs.

Despite Zack’s vehement protests, Kunsel had forced Zack to put on a work suit and tie.

“I don’t need a suit,” Zack had said, gesturing to his Soldier’s uniform, “I’m fine in what I’m wearing.”

Kunsel was not impressed. “Do you want people staring at you because of that uniform?” he asked, “Because people _will_ stare.”

Zack groaned, having serious de ja vu from the night before when Kunsel forced him to wear that janitor’s outfit. He had hated to admit it, but Kunsel was right. They were trying to attract as little attention as possible.

Kunsel, knowing when he had one an argument, had thrust the suit into Zack’s arms. “It won’t kill you to take a leaf out of Sephiroth’s book for a change.”

“I have _never_ seen Sephiroth in a suit,” Zack protested. Immediately, the mental of image of Sephiroth wearing a suit and tie popped to mind. Zack stifled a snort.

Kunsel hummed. “But it would _suit_ him.”

Zack had changed into the suit with far too much difficulty in tying the tie than he should have. How hard could tying one simple tie be?

 _Very hard,_ apparently.

Now, Zack tried not to fidget too much in the stiff, uncomfortable outfit. He was almost certain that anyone Zack knew could walk right past him and not recognize him. Zack had never worn anything other than his uniform in years.

Well, there was a first time for everything. First the janitor’s outfit, now a suit, what would it be next?

Unlike Zack, Kunsel looked exactly in his element, looking like a young business man working at a coffee shop. With a computer in front of him and a cup of coffee in hand, Zack _definitely_ wouldn’t have recognized him immediately.

“You can put sugar in your tea, you know,” Kunsel reminded Zack, handing him a sugar packet.

Zack took the packet and ripped it open, dumping its contents into his steaming hot cup of tea. Zack took a sip, still regarding his tea with caution.

“Not bad,” Zack conceded. The warm drink did manage to calm some of his anxiety over the insanity of what they were about to do.

“You could’ve ordered hot chocolate. Nobody would have cared.” Kunsel took a sip of his coffee.

Zack disagreed. He placed his mug down. “It would’ve seemed childish!” Zack gestured toward Kunsel’s mug. “Especially next to you, ordering a black coffee.”

Kunsel gave Zack a skeptical look. “I hate to break it to you, but no matter how many suits you’re in, you’re still going to look like a child.”

Zack didn’t want to agree, but he saw the truth in what Kunsel said. Heck, he _intimately knew_ the truth of Kunsel’s statement. How many times had Zack struggled with adjusting to the idea that he was no longer in his adult body? That he wore the face and physique of a fifteen-year-old?

So instead of protesting, he crossed his arms and tapped his foot against the ground rapidly. This banter was all well and good, but his anxiety was about to eat him away if they didn’t get this over with soon.

“How’s it going?” Zack asked, a little more quietly this time.

Kunsel pressed his lips together in a firm line. “Give me a minute to log in,” he said.

His fingers began flying across the keyboard. Even in the crowded café, Zack could hear the rhythmic clicking of typing.

Kunsel glanced up and held out his hand. “Alright, give me your phone so that I can read the instructions.”

It wasn’t necessary. Zack and Kunsel had both practically memorized the instructions and codes in that email after reading it so many times.

Nevertheless, Zack pulled his PHS out of his pocket and handed it over to Kunsel. His hands were so sweaty that Zack was sure he left some of the sticky residue on the device’s smooth surface.

Kunsel quickly opened it, clicked a few keys, and placed it down on the table, studying it carefully. Zack knew exactly what he was doing.

Following the instructions carefully, Kunsel accessed the program Zack had loaded onto the main computer the night before.

Okay, when Zack said he knew exactly what Kunsel was doing, what he _meant_ was that he knew what Kunsel was accomplishing, not what Kunsel was actually doing. All this hacking stuff kind of flew over Zack’s head.

Kunsel glanced up at Zack. “All I have to do is put in this final password. Are you sure we want to do this?”

Zack swallowed and nodded, glancing around for any potential attackers waiting to jump out at them.

“Do it.”

Kunsel gave a single nod and slowly typed in the password. “Done.”

They waited. Nothing happened. The chatter in the café didn’t cease. Nobody grabbed Zack and Kunsel from behind. Nobody stormed through the door, demanding for Zack and Kunsel to turn themselves in. It was almost a bit of a letdown, like Zack had been cheated out of an earth-shattering revelation.

Mostly, it was a relief.

Kunsel glanced around one more time before turning back to his computer. He let out a low whistle.

“This is way more information than we asked for.”

Zack felt his heart swoop. You expect for some suspicious message to be a trap, and instead get way more information than you expected. It was almost too good to be true.

No, it _was_ too good to be true. Zack grabbed his mug and took a large sip of tea, which was far less hot than before.

“What is there?” Zack asked.

Kunsel shook his head, clearly in awe of what he was seeing. “I mean, it makes sense. We just hacked into a company computer, but _man…_ ” He glanced back up at Zack. “Employee records, mission logs, old mako-reactor blueprints, and of course, recent orders for both the Turks and Soldier.”

“Alright,” Zack said, “Look at the recent orders for the Turks.”

Kunsel clicked a few keys and began muttering under his breath, “Classified matters, Wutai…” He straightened up, looking triumphant. “Tseng’s going on an escort mission in Wutai in a couple of days.”

Hope filled Zack. It worked. It actually worked. And not only did they have access to orders that Turk and Soldier may be receiving, but they had access to so much more information. He could do _so much more_ now.

Then, he remembered that the only reason they could was thanks to a mysterious stranger. Before, it hadn’t seemed like a big deal, but Kunsel’s paranoia can get to a guy.

And Kunsel wasn’t wrong. They were dependent on a guy that they knew nothing about.

“Awesome,” Zack finally said, “This is great.”

Kunsel glanced at Zack’s phone and handed it back to him. “We still need to be careful.”

Zack shoved his phone back into his pocket and nodded. “You said it.”

Being careful meant that they weren’t going to abuse this information. The plan was the same as it had always been. Zack was only using this to protect his friends. He wasn’t going off to sabotage every mission.

And honestly, who would do that anyway? Zack wanted to protect people, not end up in prison. Now, here’s to hoping their benefactor won’t stab them in the back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive any inaccuracies. I spent a lot of time researching, but while there is a concerning amount of information on this thing, there wasn't exactly a step by step guide on how to hack into company information. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you had wings, what would you do?” Aerith asked suddenly, expertly kneading bread dough into the countertop.
> 
> Very subtle, Zack thought to himself wryly. Like he was one to talk. Zack was the exact opposite of subtle on the best of days.

_Hey Zack,_

_I just can’t! When we were nine, Tifa decided to climb the Nibel mountains. I tried to follow her to save her, but I wasn’t strong enough and we both fell off the cliff. Now, her father won’t let her talk to me. Try fixing that._

_All the kids hate me more because of that, so I keep getting into fights. I just want people to leave me alone!_

_Mom told me to thank you for your letters. I don’t know why. Something about them making me happy or something sappy like that. She mentioned inviting you over at some point, but I know you must be busy with the war and all that stuff, so I think I’ll wait._

_And assume I don’t join Soldier. How else am I supposed to be able to protect others? I can’t fail anyone like that again._

_-Cloud_

For the next three months, Zack and Kunsel kept a steady eye on the stream of information that they now had access to. Nothing came up. Sure, they knew whenever soldiers were deployed to certain battles or areas, and they knew when Turks were sent on their inconsequential missions. But, really, there wasn’t anything to raise eyebrows at.

Considering that the only reason Zack had wanted the info in the first place was just so that he could stop the Turks from taking Aerith, this was a very good thing.

Their mysterious benefactor hadn’t contacted them since the infiltration. Zack and Kunsel considered this both foreboding and miraculous. Otherwise known as, they weren’t going to worry about it right now.

Zack still had nightmares almost every night. Most of the time, he would wake Kunsel up. Kunsel would sit next to Zack, muttering encouraging things while Zack tried to blink away the smoke and ash of Nibelheim and the burning feeling of bullets cutting through his body.

Zack cried more nights than he was comfortable with admitting. Kunsel didn’t seem to mind.

The war with Wutai was continuing steadily on. Zack almost forgot how long it had gone in his original timeline. Angeal always accompanied him on missions now, and Zack still got flashbacks on the battlefield.

Angeal told him that he had almost hit an actual infantryman from Shinra. Zack had apologized to him personally, but that didn’t stop most Shinra soldiers from giving him a wide berth. Zack knew he was developing a reputation for being dangerous and unstable.

Those who thought so wouldn’t exactly be wrong.

On a happier note, Aerith’s fifteenth birthday approached Zack at an alarming speed. It was actually Angeal who reminded him that it was coming up. Therefore, the week before her birthday, Zack found himself asking Aerith what she wanted to do. 

“You don’t have to do anything for me,” she said almost immediately.

“But I _want_ to,” Zack had protested. Aerith had already flat out refused presents, but they had to do something. 

Aerith thought for a moment. “Why don’t we bake bread at my house? Of course, that will be if my mom lets us, but…it shouldn’t be a problem.”

It had been a problem.

Aerith’s mother, Elmyra, had taken some convincing. And by some, he really meant _a lot_ of convincing. Apparently, Aerith had never told her mother that she was hanging out with a bunch of Shinra Soldiers, and certainly not famous ones.

Aerith had to reassure her mother that Zack meant no harm, nor did the first-class soldiers. _Then,_ Zack had to prove to Elmyra that he meant no harm and wouldn’t let anything happen to Aerith. It had taken a lot of effort.

The first thing Zack had noticed as he walked down the path toward Aerith’s house was the sheer number of flowers that dotted the lawn. The house itself was pretty big, way nicer than what Zack could remember from his house in Gongaga. It was almost hard to believe that this was the slums.

Aerith stopped at the door.

“She’s waiting for you inside,” she said brightly, “Good luck!”

Zack slowly opened the front door and stepped into the spacious kitchen, trying not to feel like he was stepping into his grave.

Mrs. Gainsborough was sitting on one of the wooden chairs at the kitchen table, giving Zack such a fierce look that Zack had a sudden memory of his own mother finding out he climbed up a particularly tall tree. Those days were so long ago that they hardly felt real. Sometimes, Zack would question if they even _were_ real. 

_On those days, Zack would stare at the letters from his parents, promising himself that he had parents, that he spent thirteen years of his life with them, that his life didn't start the minute he stepped into Midgar and everything went to crap._

“Mrs. Gainsborough?”

“What do you want with my daughter?” Mrs. Gainsborough’s voice was quick and sharp when she spoke, and her meaning couldn’t be clearer.

“I’m her friend.” Zack swallowed. “I promise, I don’t want anything to happen to her any more than you do.”

Mrs. Gainsborough put her hands on her hips, clearly unimpressed. “I’m willing to believe that, which is why I’m considering to allow this party” she said, “but I want to know about _you._ What do you want with my daughter? Why did you seek her out in the first place?”

Zack practiced his deep breaths. “I…needed help.”

“You needed help.” Mrs. Gainsborough gave Zack a severe look. “So, the first thing you do is seek out my daughter?”

Guilt bubbled up inside Zack. He still questioned whether he should’ve brought Aerith into this. The Turks were watching her either way, but Mrs. Gainsborough clearly didn’t want her daughter to be put into danger.

Zack winced. “I’m sorry, I swear there’s more to this situation than meets the eye, but I should’ve thought more about how you might feel about this.”

Once again, he felt like he was under his own mother’s watchful eye as she told him that he needed to make his apologies seem genuine. 

Also, Zack had been working on his people skills for the past couple of months. Apparently, the hard work had mostly paid off. That was the best apology he’d ever given anyone. Kind of sad, if you thought about it.

“If there’s more to this situation than meets the eye, I think I have a right to know,” Mrs. Gainsborough said, “Aerith is my daughter, and I need to know why you feel so compelled to receive her help.”

“Uh…” Zack stared at the floor. “Something really bad happened, and I’m trying to stop something like it happening again, so I’m asking Aerith to just help Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth to have proper communication between themselves. That’s all, I _swear.”_

“If anything happens to her—”

“I’ll probably already be dead,” Zack said, “but I will accept the consequences of my actions if I’m not.”

Mrs. Gainsborough sighed and sat down. “Fine. I suppose that’s all I can ask. Just, _please,_ protect her.”

Responsibility settled over Zack like a heavy weight. He wasn’t the only one that wanted to protect people. Obviously, he had already known that, but being faced by Aerith’s mother made that clearer.

He wasn’t just trying to save everyone for their sakes. Zack was trying to save everyone for the sakes of their loved ones, for the people who know them. _Zack’s_ parents, for instance.

Aerith’s mother was trusting Zack with her daughter. He wouldn’t betray that trust.

By some miracle, Elmyra agreed to allow four Soldiers into her kitchen, under her watchful eye, of course. Even now, Zack could feel her gaze burning into his back.

Actually, her gaze was _probably_ burning into Sephiroth’s back, since Sephiroth was the most famous one in the room. Details.

“If you had wings, what would you do?” Aerith asked suddenly, expertly kneading bread dough into the countertop.

 _Very subtle,_ Zack thought to himself wryly. Like he was one to talk. Zack was the exact opposite of subtle on the best of days.

“If I had wings…” Zack didn’t really have to think very hard about this one. “I’d feel free.”

Zack tried kneading his own dough like Aerith just did, but it wasn’t as easy as she made it look.

“Free from what?” Genesis asked, “From Earthly chains? From societal pressures? From burdens?”

“Earthly chains?” Angeal asked, “He’s not dying, Gen.”

There was laughter in his voice, but Zack didn’t fail to notice Angeal’s concerned glance in Zack’s direction.

Zack pushed harder into the sticky dough, letting it ground him. He didn’t exactly know what he meant. He just knew that he associated wings with freedom.

“I think it would be kind of scary,” Aerith mused. She glanced up at the ceiling above them like it was the endless expanse of blue that she feared so much. “Just you and the sky. Not even the ground to separate you.”

“That’s what would make it so freeing,” Zack said, glad to be moving away from the ‘death’ idea, “Even gravity can’t hold you down if you have wings.”

“‘The goddess descends from the sky, wings of light and dark spread afar, she guides us to bliss, her gift, everlasting.’” Genesis picked up his small thing of dough and began kneading almost as if he were playing with it.

“Loveless, Prologue,” Sephiroth said, carefully prodding at his own dough.

“Since I am not a divine being, I feel that wings would make me an outcast to society,” Genesis said. Despite the weighty subject, he looked almost fond of the idea. “And cause you to fall from grace.”

Zack winced at the reminder of what he had to prevent. “That’s not true, though,” he protested, “Cissnei, a Turk, said that wings reminded her of an angel.”

“Angels aren’t human.” Angeal was probably having the most success in kneading his dough out of the four Soldiers, putting his back into the process. “I can see how they too might feel themselves outcasts.”

Zack pushed back the memory of Angeal throwing a fireball at him and pressed down on his dough with more vigor.

“Well, if you had wings, you wouldn’t be any less human than the rest of us,” Zack said shortly.

“Yes, except that we would have an extra set of limbs,” Sephiroth said dryly.

“That doesn’t change anything!” Zack tried to think. “Listen, there are people out there who can’t see, or only have one leg, or have an extra finger, or who knows what. Does that make them not human?”

“No,” Angeal admitted.

Relief washed over Zack like a warm shower. _He was getting through to them._ He nodded to Angeal.

“Then why does having an extra pair of wings change anything? Being human is about how we experience life, not about our physical attributes!”

Aerith nodded. “All of us can love or feel. In the end, that’s all that matters.”

“That was almost poetic.” Genesis looked off in the distance somewhat dreamily. “It certainly gives me something to think about.”

“Regardless of humanity, you’d have to change how you fought,” Sephiroth said, “A pair of wings would ruin your balance.”

Zack had never really thought of that before. Angeal hadn’t seemed to bothered by his wings when it came to fighting, and Zack had never really seen Genesis fight before Banora. Had they spent time practicing? Were they just that impressive?

“But imagine the opportunities,” Angeal said, “You could _always_ have the high ground. That’s a huge tactical advantage.”

“Not if your high ground is something that any enemy worth your time will try to injure,” Genesis said cynically, “I’d keep to the ground and only use the wings if I needed to flee, which, of course, I never would.”

“Of course,” Angeal said dryly, “With that sort of pride, how could you ever lose?”

“I thought you loved pride?” Genesis gestured his dough toward the sword on Angeal’s back.

Aerith’s mother made a disgruntled noise from the corner of the kitchen. Zack glanced at her; she looked like she was about to kick them all out.

In hindsight, bringing weapons had probably been a bad idea.

Aerith interrupted Angeal before he could reply. “Alright, that should be enough kneading.”

They put the conversation on hold for a moment to put the bread into bowls and let them sit in the sunlight to rise, or something like that. Aerith’s mother actually kneaded Sephiroth and Genesis’ dough a couple more times before allowing it to sit with the others.

“We can sit by the flowers while we wait,” Aerith said, glancing at her mother.

Zack thought this was very wise. Mrs. Gainsborough seemed to be considering murder at this stage of the game.

“Zack,” Mrs. Gainsborough said sweetly, “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Genesis gave Zack a look that perfectly conveyed, _I’m glad I’m not you._ Aerith sent him an encouraging smile, and Angeal gave him a pat on the shoulder. Sephiroth gave Zack a pitying look as everyone but Zack filed out of the kitchen.

Zack turned around, wondering if he had done something wrong.

“Yeah?

Then, something happened that Zack wasn’t expecting at all. Elmyra _smiled._

“I just wanted you to know that if _those_ are the most powerful Soldiers in the army, I suppose there’s hope for the future after all.”

Zack stared. “Wait…seriously?”

Elmyra nodded, looking mildly astonished with herself too. “Yeah,” she said, “I wasn’t expecting it, but even the revered Sephiroth seems to have a human side to him.”

“What if I told you that they were mentally unstable and could ruin everything if they wanted to?” Zack asked, the words rushing out before he had a chance to stop them.

Elmyra raised her eyebrows. “Well, that’s what you’re trying to stop, aren’t you? That’s why you have Aerith?”

Zack nodded.

“My daughter is an extraordinary person,” Elmyra said warmly, “If anyone can keep those three from falling apart, it’s her.” Her face became suddenly serious. “As long as you protect her.”

“Right,” Zack agreed, “I promise.”

Evening was approaching as Zack, Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth were heading back toward Shinra Tower.

Zack’s PHS began buzzing in his pocket. Zack pulled it out and flipped it open. It was Kunsel. Zack answered it almost immediately.

“Hey, Kunsel,” Zack said, “What’s up?”

“I found something.”

Zack felt his heart skip a beat, and he stumbled. He steadied himself and tried to smile off the others’ concerned looks.

“Really? I’m, ah, heading back with Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth,” he said, “What’d you find?”

“I’ll show you.” A small pause. “Meet me at the train station?”

Zack frowned and glanced up at the ever-darkening sky. “Which one?”

“The one nearest to the Shinra building,” Kunsel said.

“Alright, see you there.”

Zack ended the call and shoved his PHS back into his pocket. It jostled against Aerith’s box of band-aids and Kunsel’s now-empty box of mints (there was a newer box in his other pocket).

His mind was racing. What had Kunsel found? Did Hojo want Aerith? Worse? Was Aerith already taken? Was Shinra suspicious of Zack? Did their mysterious benefactor finally betray them?

“What was that all about?” Angeal asked, pulling Zack out of his panicked thoughts.

Keep calm. Don’t let it show. Zack pasted on a smile. He was pretty sure he was better at it than he was when this all began.

“Kunsel found something he wanted to show me,” Zack said truthfully.

Genesis raised an inquisitive eyebrow as they stepped onto the train. “Did he tell you what it was?”

Zack shook his head. “A surprise. He’s going to meet me at the train station.”

The train started moving, and Sephiroth turned his back on a few people who were staring at him suspiciously. Genesis graciously signed a few autographs on the train ride.

The train ride was quite possibly the longest in his life, and Zack’s anxiety didn’t abate for the entirety of the journey. By the time the train shuddered to a stop, Zack felt that the tension might burst.

He stepped off the train and parted ways with the Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth. Now to find Kunsel…where is he?

Through the crowds of people, Zack finally spotted Kunsel leaning against the wall. Zack all but ran to him.

“Hey, Kunsel,” Zack said quickly.

Kunsel looked up at Zack and graced him with a small smile. “Hey.”

Zack glanced at the loud crowds and lowered his voice slightly. “What did you find?” He swallowed. “Is it—”

“It’s not _him,”_ Kunsel said quickly, “I still haven’t heard anything from him. And it’s not Aerith either, before you ask.”

Thank goodness. Zack took a deep breath to appreciate that at least two things that he was worried about hadn’t happened.

Still, if Kunsel felt the need to bring it to Zack’s attention immediately, this couldn’t be good.

“What is it then?” Zack asked, beginning to do nervous squats.

“There’s a girl,” Kunsel said, “Shelke Rui. She lives in Kalm with her sister. They’re orphans.”

Zack didn’t like where this was going.

Kunsel stared up at the ceiling. “She has some ability, Synaptic Net Driving. She can move her consciousness into the Worldwide Network. Shinra wants to take her and see if they can copy the ability for a new form of warfare.”

Zack’s mind raced through the possibilities. The ability to go into the Worldwide Network. That was insane! No wonder Shinra wanted that.

Shinra _wanted_ that. They wanted to forcibly take a girl from her sister to take advantage of her ability. The science department wasn’t exactly going to sit on that either. Shelke would probably, almost definitely, be experimented on.

_Cold metal restraints digging into his wrists. Syringe after syringe. Hojo’s voice floating over him. Drowning in mako._

Mute horror filled Zack. Kunsel let out a shuddering breath.

“She’s nine.”

Zack felt a feeling familiar to an electric shock run down his spine.

“ _No.”_ Zack’s horror doubled. “She’s nine? They want to force her into a war at _nine?”_ They want to experiment on a nine-year-old?

“That’s what Shinra does,” Kunsel snapped, “The company takes advantage of anything that it can gain from regardless of how it hurts everyone else.”

“I know that,” Zack said quietly.

He tried not to hear Hojo’s voice in the chatter of the station surrounding them. Pulling a piece of gum out of his pocket, Zack popped it into his mouth and grounded himself with the shocking mint flavor.

“Sorry.” Kunsel looked back guiltily at Zack before sighing. “I’m just so used to people following them blindly.”

Zack nodded and stopped squatting. He leaned against the wall next to Kunsel.

“We can’t let Shinra take her,” Zack said firmly. Not only for Shelke, but also for her poor sister.

“Obviously,” Kunsel agreed.

The train loudly screeched to a halt at the station while Zack resumed his squats. Think. Zack had strategized back when he was a First. What was the simplest way to stop Shinra from getting Shelke?

Zack snapped his fingers suddenly. “I’ve got it! We can take her _first_!”

Kunsel stared. “You want to beat the Turks, who are planning to leave for Kalm tomorrow, get the Rui sisters to safety, and just hope Shinra doesn’t notice or find them again?”

Zack pursed his lips as he tried to think of an alternative. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds like a really stupid idea.”

Kunsel winced. “It’s not stupid, just easier said than done.”

Zack stopped squatting and drummed his fingers against the side of his leg. “Can you think of anything better?”

Kunsel thought for a moment. “No, you’re right, that’s our best plan. Especially if we don’t want to be seen.”

“Awesome,” Zack said, “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mama Gainsborough is on the case. And then immediately proceeds to observe the disaster trio try to make bread and decides that there are worst things in life than her daughter having more friends, even if they work for Shinra. 
> 
> Dirge of Cerberus makes its first appearance. This is a fix-it fic, and I am determined to fix as much as possible. The wiki didn't provide me with an exact date for when in year 2000 Shelke was taken, so it's going to be February eighth for the sake of convenience. 
> 
> Also, I'm deciding that Shalua and Shelke lived in Kalm because I stared at the world map and managed to narrow it down to like two towns, and I thought that Kalm would be cooler since that's where Shalua met Vincent in Dirge of Cerberus.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud gets a martial arts teacher.

_There are so many better ways to protect people. Isn’t there someone in Nibelheim who can teach you how to fight? Then, you can protect all of your loved ones without leaving home and fighting in a war._

_As for Tifa, it’s been a lot of years now. Maybe you should try to explain yourself to her father?_

_-Zack_

_P.S. Tell your mother I said thank you for the invitation, but yeah, I am kinda busy at the moment._

Cloud stared at the letter, somewhat shocked in spite of himself. The solution seemed simple, laughable even. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? How could he be expected to protect his loved ones if he was fighting in a war?

Then he remembered the genetic modifications. If you weren’t in Soldier, what were you? Just a weak human being, that’s what. Cloud wanted to be more than that. He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to be strong.

He could be strong if he was a Soldier. Could he really be strong if he stayed home?

The door creaked open as Cloud’s mother walked into the house, interrupting Cloud’s musings.

“Oh, is that another letter from your friend?” Claudia asked, sounding strangely happy at the prospect. Cloud’s mother was always strangely happy when Zack sent another letter.

“Yeah.” Cloud glanced back down at the post script. “He says thanks for the invitation, but he’s too busy.”

Despite the fact that Cloud _knew_ this was going to be the case –he even included that fact in his most recent letter to Zack—he still felt disappointed that Zack couldn’t manage to come over.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Claudia said, loudly chopping up some vegetables.

“Yeah, well, I had a feeling,” Cloud said brusquely, hopping up from his sagging bed. He headed toward the door. “I’m going to talk to Zangan.”

“Why?”

Cloud shrugged. He wasn’t sure how his mother would feel about him possibly getting martial arts lessons from the man. He didn’t _think_ she would mind, but it was better to ask forgiveness than permission.

Cloud had a feeling that Zack would disagree.

Despite the cold Nibel air, Cloud didn’t put on a jacket as he walked outside, searching for Zangan. He found him near the edge of town.

“I was wondering when you’d come finding me,” Zangan said upon Cloud’s approach.

Confusion overcame Cloud. How could Zangan possibly know he was coming? _Cloud_ hadn’t known he was coming until five minutes ago.

He crossed his arms. “Why?”

Zangan gave Cloud a leveling look. “Kid, I have students all over the world. You can tell when they’ve got the fighting spark. _You–”_ He pointed at Cloud. “—just need to learn to reign in your temper and focus your mind.”

Cloud stubbornly kept his arms crossed. “So… you will train me?”

“I might,” Zangan said, “If you show me you have what it takes.”

Of course, it couldn’t be that easy. Cloud forced himself not to scowl. He was trying to make a good impression.

“Okay, so what do I have to do?”

Zangan glanced up at the cloudless sky before looking back down at Cloud. “Show me your dedication.”

Yeah, that was _very_ specific. “How?”

“Don’t get into any fights this week,” Zangan said, “and I’ll see if you’re a fast learner or not. Sound simple enough?”

Not really. “ _Don’t_ get into any fights?” Cloud sputtered, “But, you’re a fighting teacher! Shouldn’t you _want_ me to get into fights?”

Zangan gave Cloud a disapproving look. “A good warrior thinks with their head, not with their fists. You’re too passionate. If you get too emotional, your judgement will be compromised.”

That only sort of made sense to Cloud. Actually, Zangan was beginning to sound a lot like Zack. Zack didn’t exactly call Cloud out for his temper, but he wouldn’t exactly put it past the Soldier.

Zangan continued. “Take Tifa, for instance.” Cloud froze at the mention of her name. “Now, _she’s_ got a good head on her shoulders. You could learn a lot from her.”

Cloud had forgotten that Tifa was one of Zangan’s students. He had only really heard it in passing. But now…

You know what? If Cloud saw Tifa while training, then that wasn’t his fault. It was a coincidence. Tifa’s father couldn’t get mad at him for a coincidence.

“I’ll do it,” Cloud said.

Zangan gave Cloud a nod of approval. “Alright, boy. Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes.”

It was easier said than done. It was _way_ easier said than done. If Cloud could just turn off his temper, he would’ve done it in a heartbeat. He hated seeing his mother’s disappointed face after every fight, after every bruise, after every split lip.

Too many times that week, Cloud wanted nothing more than to punch one of the kids in the face. It would serve them right for talking about him behind his back.

But every time he balled his fists, every time he turned toward his target, he forced himself to stop. Just one week. He had to control his temper for just one week. Just ignore them. Just walk away.

Cloud got dangerously close to pushing someone over three days in. If he hadn’t seen Zangan walking by when he had, Cloud probably would’ve gotten into another fight.

But he didn’t.

Of course, that week entailed more than just not getting into fights. Cloud also began his trial training under Zangan.

It was _brutal._

After doing some basic stretches (which in themselves were nothing short of agony), Zangan took Cloud on a hiking trail and demanded that he run up and down a hill. It was freezing. The air was thin. Cloud kept stumbling over rocks.

Then, Zangan showed Cloud how to do a simple punch. Then, he demanded Cloud do it while bouncing on his toes. _Then,_ he demanded that Cloud preform the punch about ten times.

It would’ve been fine if it weren’t for a few key facts: Cloud was already tired; Zangan was the pickiest when it came to proper form; they ended up doing that for about an hour.

Cloud wouldn’t deny that the feeling of soreness all over his body was actually pretty satisfying the next morning. He did not keep that sentiment as the week progressed.

“You did it,” Zangan finally told him at the end of a very _, very_ long week, “I’ll teach you.”

Relief washed over Cloud, and he almost didn’t feel the soreness in his muscles. He had done it. He had _actually_ done it. Cloud grinned. “Really?”

Zangan held up a finger, silencing Cloud. “But _only_ if you continue to stay out of fights.”

Cloud’s relief crashed down like broken china. “What?” he asked, gaping, “But—”

“No buts,” Zangan said, crossing his arms, “You’ve proven to me that you can do it, which means that you have no excuse for _not_ doing it.”

Cloud confessed to his mother about the situation when he got home. Claudia beamed so widely that Cloud wondered if she was feeling okay.

“I’m so glad that you’re expending your energies into something so productive,” she said, “I’ll have to invite Mr. Zangan to dinner some time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter today! Sorry that it took so long for me to get this out; I hope you enjoy. :)
> 
> We'll get back to Zack's POV in the next chapter.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You two aren’t very good kidnappers,” she said brightly, “So, you’re here to help us?”
> 
> “Shelke,” Shalua hissed, “You can’t talk to them.”
> 
> Shelke pouted. “But they look so nice!”
> 
> “A lot of people look nice.” Shalua put her hands on her hips and gave Zack and Kunsel suspicious looks. “It doesn’t mean they actually are.”

_So, I thought about what you said, so I started learning martial arts. Zangan is also Tifa’s teacher, but we don’t really see each other._

_You won’t believe what happened today, though. The other kids are jerks and keep trying to get me to punch them for some stupid reason. I’m not allowed to, though, or else Zangan won’t teach me._

_Anyway, they told me to go into the old mansion. At first, I didn’t want to do it, but they accused me of being a coward. I’m NOT a coward._

_But just as I was about to go in, Tifa came and said that she wanted to come too. I tried to tell her that it wasn’t safe but she got mad and challenged me to a sparring match. She won. Then I tried to tell her that her dad wouldn’t like it, but she just said that her dad would never have to know._

_We’ve agreed to go into the mansion tomorrow. By the time you get this letter, it’ll probably have already happened. I’ll be sure to write you another letter._

_\- Cloud_

It took Zack and Kunsel a few hours to reach Kalm on their motorbikes. After getting off and parking their bikes on the outskirts of the town, Zack noticed that he had about two missed calls from Angeal.

“I know that look,” Kunsel said, “Did Angeal call you?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his own PHS. “Oh, look, I have one too from ten minutes ago.”

“Not just Angeal,” Zack moaned, scrolling through his list of missed calls, “Genesis and Sephiroth called too.”

“Should’ve come up with an alibi earlier,” Kunsel muttered.

“Let me call him,” Zack said, clicking Angeal’s contact. The phone buzzed in his hand a couple of times.

“Zack, thank god,” Angeal said. His relieved voice quickly switched to frustration. “Where the hell are you?”

“I’m, uh, hanging out with Kunsel,” Zack said truthfully, “Why?”

“And you didn’t once answer one of my calls?” Angeal asked, “I swear, if you two are in a red-light district, I will—”

“Woah, calm down!” Zack exclaimed, “Of course we weren’t in the _red-light_ district. God Angeal, who do you think we are?”

“Young men who didn’t answer their phones at night, claiming that they were hanging out,” Angeal said, “Where are you?”

Zack grimaced. “We’re at the bar,” Zack lied.

“Please tell me you’re not getting yourselves drunk.”

“Angeal, I don’t even drink alcohol!” Zack exclaimed, beginning to pace, “Listen, we’ll head back soon. Neither of us are drunk, and we’re not dead. Happy?”

A sigh. “Next time, tell me where you’re going, or at least answer your phone.”

Zack nodded, relieved that Angeal had accepted the lie. “Yeah, alright. We’ll do that.”

“I’ll see you later. Stay safe.”

“See ya.” Zack hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket. Kunsel gave Zack a mildly amused look.

“Did he seriously—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Zack groaned, running his hand down his face, “Here we are, trying to save a couple of girls from kidnapping, and I’m being accused of being in a red-light district.”

“Too be fair, you didn’t answer your phone.”

Zack rolled his eyes. “Too be fair, do you realize how hard it is to hear on one of these things?” He gestured toward the motorcycles. “Come on, we don’t have time to waste.”

They walked into town. They weren’t stupid enough to wear their Soldier uniforms. What if the Turks asked about any suspicious characters walking into town? It was hard to get more suspicious than a couple of soldiers taking two orphan girls away. Then, they could run a check on all the soldiers and figure out that it was Zack and Kunsel.

Wearing casual clothing, Zack and Kunsel hoped that the Turks wouldn’t resort to checking their Soldier department. Or, at least, they hoped to be less noticed.

Kalm was a fairly large town. At least, large compared to a backwater like Gongaga, where everyone saw everyone else daily.

“Do you have a picture of the girls?” Zack asked, “Because it’ll be kinda weird if walk up to every pair of sisters in the town and ask for their names.”

“Don’t worry,” Kunsel said, opening his PHS with a slight click, “I have a picture of Shelke right here.”

Zack took the PHS from Kunsel and peered at the picture displayed on small screen. A young girl was smiling at the camera. Her brown hair was pulled up into pigtails, and her eyes were a shocking shade of blue.

She was really adorable. The idea of Shinra taking her to perform _experiments_ was sickening.

“Got it,” Zack said, “So, I guess we start looking?”

Kunsel nodded. “She and her sister will probably be sticking together, so that will make things simpler.”

They began searching the town. The streets weren’t very busy at all, considering that it was the dead of night and most people were asleep. Thus, Zack and Kunsel easily found the girls sleeping curled up against a building. They were a lot thinner and dirtier than Shelke was in the photo. 

“Okay, so how do we do this?” Zack whispered, barely audible, “I don’t want to scare them.”

“Um…” Kunsel stared at the two sleeping forms. “Yeah, we didn’t exactly think this part through.”

Zack crouched down. “Well, I guess we could very slowly…”

At that moment, Zack’s phone began ringing. Loudly. Quickly fumbling with the PHS, Zack ignored yet another call from Angeal.

The oldest sister, Shalua, Zack could only assume, was on her feet, helping Shelke up. Then, she began sprinting down the alley.

“Wait!” Zack called after them, “We’re not…and they’re gone.”

“Damnit,” Kunsel muttered, “I really don’t want to chase them.”

“We’re genetically enhanced Soldiers,” Zack said, “We can probably just corner them.”

“How is that _any_ different or _any_ better?” Kunsel asked, almost hysterically, “This must be so terrifying for them.”

“Do you have any better ideas?” Zack asked.

“I wish we had a puppy,” Kunsel moaned, “Little girls like puppies.”

Zack snorted, reminded of his old nickname. “Aren’t I a puppy?”

Kunsel frowned. “Not anymore you’re not. Come on, we’re wasting time.”

Despite their three-minute head start, Zack and Kunsel managed to corner them near the outskirts of the town pretty easily. The minute the girls stopped running, out of breath, Zack and Kunsel raised their hands up as a show of peace.

“We’re not here to hurt you,” Zack said, “Sorry for scaring you like that, though. We’re actually trying to save you.”

Shalua—who couldn’t be much younger than Zack, she wasn’t far from matching him in height—scoffed, holding her arms up protectively. “You just expect us to believe that?”

“Listen,” Kunsel said, “Shinra wants to take your little sister. We’re trying to stop that from happening.”

Shalua blanched, but she didn’t lower her arms. “What do you want with my sister?”

“ _We_ don’t want anything,” Zack said quickly, “But _Shinra_ wants her for her SMP ability.”

“S _N_ P _,”_ Kunsel corrected, “We just want to make sure you two are safely out of the way before the Turks get to you. Can you believe that?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Shalua snapped, “This sounds exactly like what a kidnapper would say.”

She had a point.

“Okay, um…” Zack glanced around as if the scenery was going to help him. It wasn’t. “Um… what if we gave you a weapon?”

“Zack,” Kunsel said, “You’re going to give a twelve-year-old a weapon?”

“It’s as a show of faith!”

“Zack, the only weapons we have are swords, and they’re on the bikes.” Kunsel gestured in the general direction of the bikes.

“Okay, so we’ll give her the sword when we get to the bikes,” Zack said, “It’s literally the only thing I can think of right now.”

Shalua was slowly lowering her hands, and Shelke peaked out from behind her older sister.

“You two aren’t very good kidnappers,” she said brightly, “So, you’re here to help us?”

“ _Shelke,”_ Shalua hissed, “You can’t talk to them.”

Shelke pouted. “But they look so nice!”

“A lot of people look nice.” Shalua put her hands on her hips and gave Zack and Kunsel suspicious looks. “It doesn’t mean they actually are.”

Kunsel sighed and pulled out his PHS. “How about this?” He handed the device to Shalua. “You hold onto that. If at any time you feel threatened, you can call for help.”

Shalua frowned, but she pocketed the PHS. “Fine,” she said, “I’ll trust you.” The _for now_ was strongly implied.

“Good,” Zack said, relieved, “Good thinking, Kunsel.”

“Yeah, well, you were the one who got me considering ‘shows of faith that weren’t deadly weapons.’”

“Very funny,” Zack said dryly. He turned to the girls. “Okay, we should get moving. We want to put as much distance between us and the Turks as possible.”

It took a minute to get the girls situated on the motorcycles, but as soon as they did, Zack and Kunsel took off. Not toward Midgar. They agreed that their first stop would be _as far away from Kalm as possible,_ before they actually figured out where they would be taking Shelke and Shalua.

When they finally felt like they were safe enough to stop, Zack and Kunsel helped the girls off of the motorcycle. They were now deep into the night, and Angeal had attempted at making more calls. Zack was going to have hell to pay when he finally called him back.

Shalua sat down and allowed Shelke to fall asleep against her shoulder. She continued glaring at Zack suspiciously, but her scowl was more tired than it was before.

Zack and Kunsel began seriously discussing their options.

“We could take them to Wutai,” Kunsel suggested, “That’s the only place not occupied by Shinra.”

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” Zack said, “You and I both know that Shinra’s winning the war.”

And Shinra _had already_ won the war. Zack had a feeling that that was going to be something that not even _he_ was going to be able to change.

“Fine,” Kunsel sighed, running his hand through his hair, “Where do you suggest?”

There weren’t many good options. In theory, Shinra could track them down anywhere.

“The only hope I can see is hoping that we can disguise them,” Zack said, “But I’m not sure how well that will work out.”

Kunsel let out a hysterical laugh. “We are in way over our heads, aren’t we?”

Zack fiddled with his phone, wondering if he should just call one of the Firsts to see if they knew of anywhere that Shinra couldn’t access. It would probably sound too obvious, though. Not to mention that he would get a chewing out from Angeal for ignoring his calls.

Zack spun around and began to pace. “I guess we can just—” He stopped short upon seeing a weird figure approach them. “Uh, Kunsel, you might want to get your sword.”

Both Zack and Kunsel retrieved their swords, warily watching the figure as he approached nearer.

The man was wearing a weird assortment of red clothing, and his black hair was long and held up in a strange way. It was almost like he was trying out some strange monster costume. The cold darkness of night did nothing to help the spookiness of it all. 

When he got close enough, Zack pointed his sword at the man. “Who the hell are you?”

The man raised his eyebrows. “Vincent Valentine. Who the hell are you?” His eyes landed on the girls sitting behind Zack. Valentine’s face morphed into a scowl. “And what are you doing with those two?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Dude, I had so much trouble with this chapter, but I was on a walk, and everything suddenly clicked, so yay!  
> Now, you guys get shorter chapters for more frequent updates. 
> 
> Also, I promise I can explain everything in future chapters. 
> 
> Sorry for any inaccuracies. I hope you enjoyed!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listen, Vincent had not planned for this.
> 
> The very fact this happened just proved that the Planet had it out for him. Actually, this was really just the cherry on top of that particular subject. Between dying, being experimented on, being roped into saving the world, being attacked by an old secret Shinra organization, and having to fight a literal planet weapon, the Planet had made it very clear it enjoyed watching him suffer.
> 
> To make matters even better, Vincent was going to have to do it all over again. 
> 
> _Fantastic._

_Hey Zack,_

_I know I wrote a letter to you yesterday, but you will not believe what happened after Tifa and I explored that old mansion! First of all, there were a lot of monsters. Tifa was probably the best at beating them up, but I still definitely helped!_

_Second of all, there were these freaky looking coffins, but I thought there might be treasure, so I opened one of them, and guess what we found? It was a man. At first, we thought he was dead, but it turned out that he was just sleeping. Tifa was really freaked out, but_ I _wasn’t._

_Anyway, he was much better at killing monsters, so Tifa was glad that I found him in the end. He also helped us with our injuries, so now Mom won’t be so upset._

_Anyway, see you later._

_-Cloud_

Listen, Vincent had _not_ planned for this.

The very fact this happened just proved that the Planet had it out for him. Actually, this was really just the cherry on top of that particular subject. Between dying, being experimented on, being roped into saving the world, being attacked by an old secret Shinra organization, and having to fight a literal planet weapon, the Planet had made it very clear it enjoyed watching him suffer.

To make matters even better, Vincent was going to have to do it all over again.

It all started when Vincent woke up in a place that was _not_ his bed, but just as, if not more familiar. That horrible musty smell of rotting wood filled his nostrils, and after feeling the splintered surface underneath him, Vincent quickly deduced that he was in tehe old coffin he used to sleep in as atonement.

Suddenly, Vincent heard a loud screech. Things only got better when he found himself staring up at Cloud and Tifa, but they weren’t the Cloud and Tifa Vincent knew. First of all, Cloud had long hair that was tied up in a pony-tail. Second of all, they both looked like they were absolute babies.

While Vincent wished he could have had time to stress over the fact that Cloud and Tifa were children, he didn’t have time to think about that, because these kids were _covered_ in injuries.

“What the hell happened to you?” were the first words out of his mouth as he climbed out of his coffin and began searching for some restore Materia.

Since the Planet hated him, there was none to be found.

“We fought monsters,” Tifa said a matter of factly. She crossed her arms, which were covered with bruises and _still-bleeding_ cuts. “Who are you?”

Clearly, Tifa and Cloud had not joined him in this time traveling venture. That was probably for the best.

“I’m Vincent,” he said.

Cloud scowled at him, showing more emotion than Vincent usually saw from him, “What are you doing here? Are you another monster?”

Vincent chuckled. “In a way.”

Cloud raised his tiny (and also bruised and bleeding) fists. “I’ll fight you!”

At those words, Cloud began swaying back and forth, looking as though he were about to pass out. Vincent caught him just in time.

“I’m not going to hurt your friend,” Vincent told Tifa, who looked ready to kick Vincent in the shins.

“Hey, let go of me!” Cloud shouted.

“Yeah, and let you pass out again?” Vincent asked, “I don’t think so.”

“I won’t pass out!” Cloud protested, “I was just trying to lull you into a false sense of security!”

Vincent glanced at Tifa, who shook her head. “He was going to pass out. He took even more of a beating than I did.”

“Hey!” Cloud scowled.

“What are you even doing here?” Vincent frowned at the two children. “Shouldn’t you know better?”

Tifa scowled. “Some of my friends dared Cloud to go in, so I decided to go in with him. We didn’t expect there to be so many monsters.” She glanced away. “We didn’t kill them all,” she said quietly, “We started running away near the end.”

“So that would be the scratching sound on the other side of the door.”

Tifa nodded and looked at the door nervously.

Vincent sighed. The fact that these kids were still alive was a miracle. He carefully put Cloud on the ground, who immediately jumped to his feet before Tifa forced him to sit down again.

“I’ll deal with them,” Vincent said, “You stay here.”

Tifa nodded. Vincent did exactly as he promised, and killed all of the monsters. It wasn’t that hard. Between his guns and Chaos, it was downright easy.

“Alright.” Vincent crouched down in front of Cloud. “Climb up on my back.” He looked over at Tifa, who looked slightly faint herself. “Can you walk, or do you need me to carry you too?”

Tifa rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

Vincent ended up carrying both children up the basement stairs, much to both of their dismay.

Getting outside was literally a breath of fresh air, and Vincent was overjoyed to be free of the musty atmosphere of the basement. He set the children down.

“You two stay here,” he said, “I’m going to get you something for your wounds.”

Vincent went straight toward the shop, ignoring the weird looks he received from the townspeople. It was interesting, being in the Nibelheim that Cloud knew, and not the fake recreation Shinra made after the Nibelheim incident.

Vincent sold all of the item drops he received from fighting the monsters and bought potions with the gil. He then returned to the children.

“Drink this,” he said, pressing potions into Cloud and Tifa’s hands.

Cloud scowled at it. “What is it?”

“It’s a potion,” Vincent told Cloud, “So unless you want your mother to know that you were being an idiot, you’ll drink the potion.”

Cloud blanched and drank the potion. Tifa watched as Cloud’s injuries mostly faded away. Then, she drank her own and let out a sigh when her wounds started healing.

“Well, thanks,” Cloud said, getting to his feet. He stared at the ground. “This would be the part where my mom would ask you to stay for dinner, but…”

“Maybe we should wait for your mom to meet me first,” Vincent said, “Which can’t be today. I have some business to take care of.”

He left the kids without another word. It wasn’t until he was about an hour away from Nibelheim that it occurred to him that this had never happened in the original timeline. Vincent would have known if Cloud and Tifa opened up his coffin about ten years too early. Right?

Just something more to think about, Vincent guessed.

Vincent’s first order of business was to get Shelke and Shalua out of Shinra’s reach. He wasn’t exactly sure what year it was, he hadn’t bothered to check, but Vincent could only assume that Shelke was almost nine at this point.

Besides, the sooner he could get the girls to safety, the better for everyone.

Therefore, suffice it to say that Vincent was very surprised to see two men in the seemingly middle of nowhere with Shelke and Shalua in tow. They seemed to be in the middle of an argument.

The argument was cut short as soon as they caught sight of Vincent. Good. At least these two men weren’t idiots.

As Vincent approached, he saw that they weren’t men at all, but yet more children. Slightly older than Tifa and Cloud, but still definitely children.

One of the children pointed his sword at Vincent when he got close enough. Even though it was night, Vincent could see the glow of Mako eyes. They were Soldiers then. Fantastic.

“Who the hell are you?” the child pointing his sword at him asked.

Vincent decided that he didn’t care enough to hide his name. “Vincent Valentine. Who the hell are you?” His eyes landed on Shelke and Shalua. “And what are you doing with those two?”

There was small pause before the other kid answered. “We’re their cousins. We’re on a road trip.”

Vincent snorted. “Nice try, but I know you’re Soldiers. So I’ll ask you again—” He pulled out his gun and got the sword pressed closer toward him in return. “What are you doing with those girls?”

“It’s not what you think,” the one holding the sword said, “We’re trying to get them away from Shinra.”

“Yeah, like I’m supposed to believe that.”

The other kid nodded furiously. “It’s true. Would we really be wearing anything but our uniform if we were kidnapping them? It’s not like following orders would require us to run from the law.”

That actually made quite a bit of sense. Vincent slowly began putting his gun away. He didn’t particularly want to kill teenage soldiers anyway, and he might’ve, it came down to it. “You still haven’t told me your names,” Vincent pointed out.

“We’re trying to keep a low profile,” the black-haired kid, who was now lowering his sword, said, “So distributing our name wouldn’t really be a good idea.”

“Uh-huh,” Vincent said, “What if I told you that the last thing I wanted to do was rat a couple of kids out to Shinra for saving another couple of kids?”

The black-haired kid scowled. “I would say that Shinra has more than one way of making people talk.”

Huh, not an idealistic and propaganda filled pawn of Shinra’s then. Vincent supposed there was still hope in the world after all.

“You’re assuming I’ll get caught,” Vincent pointed out, “I won’t get caught.”

The black-haired kid laughed grimly. “That’s what we all think.”

There was something strangely familiar about this kid. The way he held himself reminded Vincent vaguely of Cloud. Maybe it was something all Soldiers did. Of course, Cloud was never really a Soldier, that was all his friend Zack.

Wait a minute… could he be?

It was a long shot, but fortunately, Vincent was good at those.

“Are you Zack?”

Vincent couldn’t exactly see well in the darkness of night, but based on Zack’s facial expression, he could only assume that Zack had become deathly pale.

“How do you know me?”

“ _Why would you say that?”_ the kid behind Zack hissed.

“I know your friend, Cloud.”

Vincent immediately mentally slapped himself. Zack wouldn’t know Cloud yet, since Cloud hadn’t joined Soldier.

But, to Vincent’s surprise, there was recognition on Zack’s face.

“How do you know him?” Zack asked, “I’ve never seen you before.”

Instead of asking that incredibly incriminating question; Vincent decided to respond with a, “How do _you_ know him?”

“Family friend,” Zack shot back. It was a lie, but it wasn’t as obvious as it could’ve been.

Vincent had a feeling more was at play than he realized.

“What the hell is going on here?” the other teenager asked.

Zack glanced at him. “Um…”

Vincent, however, did not have time to ponder on mysteries, and would rather get to the bottom of this sooner rather than later.

“Can we talk in private?” Vincent asked.

Zack frowned before nodding. “Fine.” He turned to the other Soldier. “Watch over the girls while we’re gone.”

The other kid groaned. “Zack, if you get killed, so help me—”

Zack only smiled grimly, like there was a joke that nobody else knew the punchline to. Vincent had a feeling he knew the punchline.

When they were a safe distance away from the other kid and the girls, Vincent didn’t waste any time.

“You’re from the future, aren’t you?”

Zack, to his credit, had a reply ready. “You would only think that if you were also from the future. Or unless you were Genesis. Everyone else doesn’t believe in time travel.”

Vincent rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, you got me. I’m from the future. So, how far did you get?”

Even though the sun was peeking over the horizon, the temperature seemed to get frostier as Zack hesitated. Vincent wondered if the kid was actually going to reply at all before he whispered, “Midgar was _right there._ But then there was the army, and I wasn’t going to make it, so I gave Cloud the sword and suddenly, I was back.”

Vincent wasn’t sure what to say to that. He had died too. Heck, he still had nightmares about it. But still, what was he supposed to say to a teenager who was killed brutally by the army he used to serve?

He was relieved when Zack said, “So, how far ahead are you from?”

Vincent hesitated. “What year is it now?”

“0001,” Zack provided.

After doing some math, Vincent replied with, “About twelve years.”

Zack nodded. “About five years more than I made. How was Cloud?”

Once again, Vincent hesitated before deciding that blunt truth was probably best. “He was pretty screwed up.” Zack winced. “But he’s much better now. So, I assume the reason he journeyed into Shinra manner was you?”

Zack started. “He _what?”_ Vincent didn’t get a chance to reply before the teen began pacing. “Was he out of his _mind?_ That place is crawling with monsters. Did he _seriously_ —?”

“He’s fine,” Vincent assured him, “I got both him and Tifa a potion.”

Zack stopped pacing. “He went with Tifa?”

Vincent wasn’t entirely sure why this was relevant. “Yep.”

Zack nodded. “Well, at least some good came out of it.”

Suddenly, Zack’s phone began to ring. Zack distractedly answered it before looking stricken.

Vincent hoped it wasn’t terrible news. But, considering his track record, it probably was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this? Two chapters in two successive weeks? It must be a holiday miracle! 
> 
> I had always wanted to have more than just Zack time traveling, so I landed on Vincent. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading. Sorry for any inaccuracies.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [Tumblr](https://mollypollykinz.tumblr.com/) now! Check it out if you want.


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